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MOTTO OF KANSAS: 
Ad Astra per Aspera. — "To the Stars Through Difficulties." 




"The union of lakes, the union of lands, 
The union of states none can sever. 

The union of hearts, the union of hands, 
And the flag of our union forever." 



MORE TRUTH 



THAN 



POETRY. 



By ANNA A. WRIOMX. 



1884. 







Copyright, 
By ANNA A. WRIGHT, 

18S4. 



W. S. BATTIS & CO., PRINTERS, 
CHICAGO. 



CONTENTS. 

Kansas Struggling for a Foothold, - - S 

The Kansas Boy, 8 

Sketch of the Buffalo, and Indian Massacre, 15 
Kansas as I Heard it in 1867, - . - - - 24 

Kansas as it is, - - 28 

Sketch, ---...--.- so 
Burning and Sacking of Lawrence, - - 36 
To the Memory of the Hon. D. C. Haskell, 42 

Sketch, 47 

Taking a Message Through, . . _ . 51 

Lincoln's Call for Troops, 57 

Died at Stone Eiver, ------ 61 

Battle of Wilson's Creek, and Death of Gen. 

Lyon, - - 66 

The Dying Soldier, ------ 74 

Decoration Day, - 77 

Battle of Korth Point, and Bombardment of 

Fort McHenry, 80 

The Star Spangled Banner, - - . - 92 

What our Flag Says, -.96 

Decoration Day, ------- 100 

The Dying Soldier, - 103 

Decoration Day, - - - • - - - 107 



CONTENTS. 



Our Flag, ^^^ 

Decoration Day, 112 

:No More Pensions, 115 

What Made the Year 1865 Memorable, - 117 
Welcome of 1865, __----- 126 

Decoration Day, 135 

Ode, ---------- 138 

Pensions all Paid, ------ 140 

Decoration Day, -------144 

Oh! the Dead were There, . - - . 147 
Just Twenty Years Ago, - - - - - 150 

A Plea to Voters, 155 

Temperance, __- 159 

Dialogue, - - - 163 

Moderate Drinking, __--.- 168 
te3iperance, --------171 

Sign the Pledge, ___---- 173 

The Tree of Liberty, _ _ . - - 177 
They are Passing Away^ - - - - - ISO 

Lainientation, _-_-._- 183 

Reflection, -------- 185 

Our Thoughts, - - - - - - - 187 

Burning of Richmond Theater, - - - 189 
She Died with the Old Year, _ - _ 192 
The Stolen Child, _---__ 198 

When We are Old, - - - - - - 201 

Wild Cat Money in the '50s, - - - - 205 

BoY^s. DoN'T Run Away from Home, - - 209 
Childhood's Days, - - ----- - 212 

Cyclone, 216 

Admonition, - - - - . - - - 219 
Grave of Washington, 235 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Prontispiece. 

Election in Atchison in 185S, . - - - 4 

Indian Massacre, 14 

A Scene in Northern Kansas in 1873, - - 24 

Besidence of Hon. Charles F. Koester, - 25 

Hesidence of Gapt. Joseph Wilson, - - - 28 

Burning and Sacking of Laavrence, - - 30 

Blue Kapids Falls, - - 38 

Taking a Message Through, - - - . 43 

Gen. Lyon's Monu3ient, G6 

Bearing the Wounded from the Field, - 103 

Welcome of 1865, 126 

Gen. Sickles, - - 150 

Temperance, 162 

Tree of Liberty, --..-.-- 178 

The Stolen Child, 199 

Wild Cat Money in the 'oOs, - - - - 205 

Cyclone, 216 



msi^oDaGsioN. 



^ 



HAVE been induced to offer the contents 
of this book to the pubUc by the earnest 
soHcitations of many friends, and thus I 
comply, without apologising or making re- 
marks concerning the pieces; suffice to say, 
two months ago the thought of writing the 
same was far from me. I will ask critics to 
consider several things; 

First: — Kansas does not boast, as yet, of 
her literary talent. 

Second'. — The composer and writer is a 
Kansan. 

Third: — She was married very young, 
went into a family of considerable size; con- 
sequently the cares of a family and numer- 



11 INTRODUCTION. 

ous household duties absorbed all working 
hours, leaving the writer with little or no 
time for study. But, as work cannot chain 
the intellectual part, we are at liberty to look 
back through departed years, and note the 
great and wonderful changes that have 
taken place since the soil of this fair domain 
ceased to be trampled by British oppressors. 
The heart of every true American must 
glow with rapturous delight when contem- 
plating the advantages and progress of our 
country, knowing there is no higher title, no 
more honored name, than they possess, 
— American citizens! We can look back 
through the short period of forty years, and 
see that immense concourse of American 
people assembled around the completed 
monument of Bunker Hill, upon the soil 
which will be ever dear to the bosom of the 
patriot, and to the friends of liberty through- 
out the world. That vast multitude listened 
with intense interest to America's greatest 
orator, while he poured forth, in words of 
unparalleled eloquence, his love and devo- 
tion to his country and his countrymen; 



INTRODUCTION. Ill 

while each heart beat in quick response to 
the patriotic exultation, -'thank God, I, also, 
am an American!" If America to-day could 
boast of more sons possessed with such un- 
alloyed and profound patriotism, there would 
be less wrangling among politicians. 

In contemplating America's wonderful 
progress, we will notice, in particular, our 
beloved State of Kansas. For what interests 
the people of Kansas, must materially inter- 
est the people of every other state in the 
Union. As Kansas is a representative of 
every state, and as Kansas in particular is 
on trial before the nation, she is to demon- 
strate how strong Is her Ideal of a practical 
manhood, that has enough austere virtue and 
manly love for the will of the people, to de- 
clare that the mandates of courts, and the 
solemn sanction of the organic act must and 
shall be enforced. 

To the perpetual shame of Kansas — this 
grand and noble young state, to which many 
have given a quarter of a century of un- 
broken love and devotion — we shrink to 
say there Is witnessed the dance of death, 



IV INTRODUCTION. 

and disgraceful orgies of violated laws; 
death to the principle that makes popular 
liberty possible! and for which Kansas 
suffered and sacrificed so much in her 
grandly heroic days. Is it possible that 
upon the soil v/here Kansas martyrs shed 
their blood for liberty and the upholding of 
her laws; where her true and law-abiding 
citizens were hunted and hounded in re- 
pelling ruffianly violators of the law; there 
is to be a brazen and bawdy prostitution of 
a law and its wanton violation flouted in the 
faces of the people, whose representatives, 
by a vote practically unanimous, enacted? 
The noes come from woodland and prairie. 
From the waters of the Blue and Vermil- 
lion, in the north; from the sandy plains in 
the west; from the banks of the Neosho and 
Arkansas; there comes one voice, ''the law 
of Temperance must be enforced." From 
every grove and valley that is familiar with 
the story of what Kansas martyrs suffered 
and dared twenty-five years ago, for the 
right and) to uphold the supremacy and 
majesty of violated law), there should go up 



INTRODUCTION. V 

one voice, ''the law of Temperance must be 
enforced." Because it is the law, and be- 
cause it is right. The protests of the peo- 
ple ought to go up so strong and united 
that the cowards would flee to the dessert, 
rather than w^itness the desecration of law. 
The violators should be made to feel and 
know that they are making themselves in- 
famous, and scandalizing the brightest and 
best portion of the history of the grandest 
state in the Union. No interest of Kansas 
has been injured by the adoption of the 
Prohibition amendment. It has not stopped 
immigration. Building has not ceased, but 
has increased ten-fold. Kansas skies are 
just as bright and inviting as ever. The 
climate and bountiful crops which woo and 
win the industrious settler, appear more 
genial and bountiful than ever before in the 
years of phenominal and wonderful growth. 
In this prosperous young state, farms are 
being opened up every day; the future of 
Kansas was never so bright, never painted 
with such gorgeous colors of golden pro- 
mise to the heroic, the grand and glorious 



VI INTRODUCTION. 

State of Kansas, as since the adoption of 
the Prohibition amendment. Kansas will 
never suffer for doing right. When wheat 
mills take the place of whisky mills, and 
corn is grown where whisky has raised 
weeds and thistles; the wife and children 
have the proceeds, instead of the saloon-^ 
keeper; manufactories take the place of gia 
shops; then the community will walk up- 
right, and the country be on the road to 
prosperity. 

We can look back through less than one- 
third of a century and see the wild, unbroken 
prairies for hundreds of miles in either di- 
rection, with scarcely avistage of civilization; 
there was nothing that human hands had 
done to develop nature from her primeval 
solitudes. The waters of the Blue, Kansas, 
and their tributaries in the north and east; 
the numerous small streams that form the 
Solomon in the more central part; the 
Neosho and its branches in the east; the 
Arkansas, and the multitude of creeks that 
flow into it in the south and west; all 
flowed on uninterrupted, as they had done 



INTRODUCTION. Vll 

for centuries. The melody of the birds, the 
countless herds of buffalo, the antelope, elk, 
deer and small animals, were undisturbed by 
the voice of human industry. Spread out 
as far as the eye could reach in either di- 
rection was an endless carpet of verdure and 
beauty. Broad prairies, covered w4th rich 
coating of luxuriant grass; beautiful parks, 
formed by nature, but seemingly adorned by 
art, lined the gently sloping hillsides; rich 
valleys and beautiful uplands, awaited the 
plow and hoe of the husbandman, that they 
might laugh with abundant harvest. Here 
was beauty without productiveness. Utility 
had not changed nature to the care of pro- 
gress, and compelled her to contribute to 
the comforts, the luxuries and the happiness 
of mankind. 

The same heavens are still over us, the 
same sun sheds its effulgent rays upon our 
soil. The same streams murmur their 
musical sounds and pass on unvexed to the 
sun-lit sea. But all else, how changed! 
Waving fields of grain; the silver tasseled 
corn; all kinds of cereals; beautiful groves 



Vin INTRODUCTION. 

and orchards bearing all kinds of fruit in 

their season; substantial stone, brick and 

frame buildings; stone hedge, board and 

wire fences, have taken the place of the 

wild, unbroken prairie, the dug-out, straw 

stable and lariat. 

The Author. 

3arnes, Kansas^ 1884. 




PART I. ■ 

KANSAS, 



l^ai^sas Straggiii^g for a Footl^ol^. 



-«x8>O^Ofi>«- 



^jff XPLORERS, hunters and miners, 

Had crossed those lovely plains, 



Held sway o'er these domains. 



When naught but the savao-e Indian 



But the onward words of America's son's 
Were, "westward we will go! 

And on those rich and verdant plains. 
We'll wield the plow and hoe!" 

At first her growth was very slow, 

But healthy it must be; 
Por free-soil men couldn't go a law 

Called ''Squatter Sovereignty," 



4 KANSAS STRUGGLING FOR A FOOTHOLDV 

In' '58 another dose was mixed— 

Atid h was a bitter pill ! — - 
It was got up by a dough-faced son, 

And known as the ^'English Bill." 

For thirty years they've made their home 

Upon the Kansas soil; 
But grasshoppers, drouths and prairie fire& 

Have made them double toil. 

But now, such things she looks upon 

As a relic of the past; 
For in her mighty strides to win. 

Some states she's sweeping past. 

In '59 they tried to get 

The first pre-emption through; 
But the blue lodge clan, who lived in the south 

Said, ''Boys 'twill never do!" 

Next they tried for a homestead bill. 
And they thought they'd get it; 

It passed the house — Republican, — 
But 'twas defeated in the senate. 




Election in Atchison, Kansas, in 1858 



KANSAS STRUGGLING FOR A FOOTHOLD. 5 

Again the bill was read and referred, 
With many a hot discussion, too; 

But the solid south and doueh-faced north 
Said, "Boys it shan't go through!" 

And then the issue came, you know. 

The south against the north; 
Again they thought they'd try the bill, 

To see what 'twould brinof forth. 

Just then a gale from the south swept by. 

It said, ''we're all prepared for war! 
Resign your seats and come at once, 

For free-soil men we do abhor!" 

And when the pests had left the house, 
They who had tried to crush this state 

With insults, more than men could bear, 
With loud harangue and mean debate, 

The free-soil men w^atched the gale. 

To see what it would waft, 
When English said, "I'll vote it now, 



6 KANSAS STRUGGLING FOR A FOOTHOLD. 

For Jimmy B will veto that, 

He'll crush it afore and aft!" 

For six long years of Democratic rule 
'Twas broils, blood-shed and strife; 

For ruffiains, from the border states, 
Marched through with lead and knife. 

She had no power such mobs to stay, 
For trampled had been her laws 

By the very men who had said, 

Our constitution and our laws. 

They would sustain to the last clause. 

And thus, you see, they bound her down, 

Till eighteen sixty-one, — 
Old Abe took the reins, you know, — 

And then, she walked alone. 

And through that long and bloody strife, 

She filled her quota full; 
And since that time she's rushed ahead 
Each year, and made some giant strides, 

While under Republican rule. 



KANSAS STRUGGLING FOR A FOOTHOLD. 

She had the best of Governors, too, 

From Robison to St. John; 
They were just the men to hold the reign. 

And drive her right along. 

Thus Kansas, in her younger days. 

Was like a tender sprout; 
She was nipped and stunted by the men 
AVho now, for a blind, with swelling words, 

Cry, "turn the rascals out!" - 




Sl^e K^aipsas Bov^. 



•"•Ojgocx 



lit'' 



EE the merry Kansas boy, 



ft Rise at dawn of day, — 
Do his chores, and eat his hash, 
And then to the field away. 

Then turn the furrows, one by one, 
Till he hears the well-known ring 

Of the dear old bell by the kitchen door, 
When his mother pulls the string. 

And then with a smile and a quickened step. 

The traces he wall drop; 
Fold up the lines, and away they'll go, 

Till by the well they'll stop. 



THE KANSAS BOY. 

And when he's eaten a good square meal, 
And the hour for rest is done, 

He'll turn the furrows as before, 
Till the setting of the sun. 

Thus, day by day, his work's the same, 
Till the plowing is all through; 

And then he'll sow and plant his grain, — 
For that's the way they do. 

And then it's harrow day by day. 
Then roll the same ground o'er, 

Until it looks like a garden bed, 
And smooth as a kitchen floor. 

And then there comes the steady tramp, 

To cultivate the corn, 
Until the golden fields of grain 

Say, "boy, I must be shorn." 

Then it's reap and shock the grain. 

And make the giant stacks; 
Which make the boys so tired at night, 

And many aching backs. 



lO THE KANSAS BOY. 

Then of his grass, so fine and sweei 
He mows a goodly store; 

Then stacks it up for winter use, 
An hundred ton or more. 

And then it's thresh and plow again. 

And sow the garnered wheat; 
And that's the way the Kansas boy 

Gets up the bread you eat. 

He gathers in his pumpkins, — 
His potatoes are so fine, — 

He gathers in his apples. 
And clusters from the vine. 

And then a tiresome job begins, 
When the silvered corn is ripe; 

It's husk and crib and do his chores. 
And work with all his mieht. 



't>' 



His work is hard in summer. 
But winter brings repose, 
When he takes his hat and books you. know 



And off to school he goes. 



THE KANSAS BOY. 11 

And there he'll sit on a patent seat, 

And con his lessons o'er, 
Unmindful of the log school house, 

Where his father gained his lore. 

He'll see before him on a map, 

A spot all dotted o'er 
With cities, towns and villages, 

Full twenty score or more. 

That spot was then a treeless plain, 
Far from the homes of cultured men 

In the olden days when they whipped by rule 
And sat on a slab in the district school. 

He thinks the wise would have laughed in 
scorn, 
Had men foretold our fields of corn; 
Ah ! they knew not the wealth untold 

That was hid where the Kansas Prairies 
rolled. 

He never walks, but always rides, 
If it's only half a mile, 



12 THE KANSAS BOY. 

He'll mount the fleetest horse in the barn, 
For that's the Kansas style. 

He's not the boy of which you sing, 

That borrows of his dad, 
But holds the rein above his own, 

Of the best that can be had. 

His steers and hoo^s are fattened 
On the corn his hands did raise, 

And then he takes them off to town, 
For thus he thinks it pays. 

Success attends the Kansas Boy, 
Who merrily follows his plow; 

He's monarch of Prairie and upland;— 
'Tis only to God he must bow. 



%% 







///;;/ <^^ 



Sk^etci^ of tipe Baffalo ai^^ ii^^iai^ 
Massacre. 



T the period when immigrants began to 
make settlements along the frontier of 
Kansas, buffalo was found in the eastern 
pari: of the state, but they gradually moved 
westward before the white population, and 
took possession in the limestone districts. In 
these comparatively low tracts they found 
an abundance of good grass in summer, and 
many places over-grown with bullrushes, 
together with the fine buffalo-grass, supplied 
them with winter food; salt water is found 
on the confines of the limestone, and there 



1 6 BUFFALO. 

are several well-known salt licks where the 
buffalo were sure to be found; at all seasons 
of the year they wandered constantly from 
place to place, either from being disturbed 
by hunters or in quest of food. 

They were much attracted by the soft, 
tender grass which springs up after a fire 
has spread over the prairies. They were 
generally very shy, and took to flight in- 
stantly on scenting the hunter; they were 
less wary when assembled together in num- 
bers, and would often follow their leader 
regardless of or trampling down the hunters 
posted in their way. 

Herds of buffalo wandered over the mid- 
dle and western counties as late as '72, 
usually led by one remarkable for strength 
and fierceness. While feeding they V\'ould 
scatter over a great extent of country; but 
when moving they formed a dense and 
almost impenetrable column, which once in 
motion could scarcely be impeded even by 
rivers, across which they swam, without 



INDIAN MASSACRE. I 7 

fear or hesitation nearly in the order they 
traversed the plains. When tieeing before 
their pursuers it would be in vain for the 
foremost to halt or attempt to obstruct the 
progress of the main body. As the throng 
in the rear advance, destruction awaited the 
foremost, unless they rushed pell-mell over 
the prairie. The flesh of the buffalo, when 
in good condition, especially the calves, is 
very sweet, juicy, and well flavored, much 
resemblinof well-fed beef. I have eaten the 
flesh of the buffalo calf that was as sweet 
and tender as vounof chicken. I have seen 
^vaofon loads of the meat enroute for market, 
each waTOn drawn bv several voke of Texas 
oxen; but they have been slaughtered for 
their meat, their hides to make robes, and 
for mere sport, until at the present time, 
their numbers are few in Kansas; if any they 
are in the extreme western counties. 

The time the massacre took place, of 
which I have given a picture, and of which I 
write in particular, was in 1S69. At that 



1 8 INDIAN MASSACRE. 

time a considerable supply of the settler's 
meat was obtained from that source. There 
being no buffalo in the northern counties, 
east of the Republican river, in Republic 
County, they must necessarily go eighty or 
one hundred miles to find plenty of game. 

In May, 1869, a party of seven, consist- 
ing of J. L. McChesney, a Mr. Cole and 
son, an uncle and cousin of Mr. M's., 
Phillip Burk, an ex-union soldier, Rubart 
Winklepleck and son, also a nephew of Mr. 
W., started from Waterville. Buffalo were 
not found until they had reached the head 
waters of White Rock, a tributary of the 
Republican; there they found the untamed 
monsters of the prairie in abundance. In a 
few days they succeeded in bringing down 
enough to load their wagons; also caught a 
calf, which Mr. Cole was going to take to 
Michigan as a curiosity. 

They commenced their homeward journey 
in good spirits over their excellent success 
in hunting, little thinking the dark savage 



INDIAN MASSACRE. I 9 

with eyes full of vicious hate, was ploting 
their capture and destruction. A scouting 
party of Cheyennes had discovered them, 
and like the sly, sneaking coyotes of the 
prairie, they were planning their fiendish 
raid. The hunting party, unconscious of the 
impending danger, leisurely traveled down 
the stream, seeking a fording place. 

The day previous to the massacre, a 
small party of Indians made their appear- 
ance on a distant bluff. They approached 
near enough to ascertain the exact strength 
of the hunting party, so they could capture 
them without any trouble. After seeing 
the Indians, the owner of one wagon 
threw his meat overboard, liberated the 
buffalo calf and made the best speed possi- 
ble. The ammunition of the hunters was 
nearly gone, and any firing on their part 
would be useless. They were nearing the 
mouth of White Rock and must necessarily 
cross the Republican. Near the junction of 
the two streams was an old log fort, built by 



20 INDIAN MASSACRE. 

the soldiers years before. Night was com- 
ing on; they did not dare to travel with their 
teams after dark. A council was held, and 
they resolved to reach the fort and pass the 
night, thinking, perhaps, help might arrive. 
There they passed the night. Some pro- 
posed to abandon their teams and under 
cover of darkness make their escape, if 
possible, on foot; but that looked too coward- 
ly for an old soldier like Mr. Burk, for not 
more than a half a dozen Indians had been 
seen. 

Morning came. If attacked at the fort 
they were helpless, as their ammunition was 
nearly gone. The Indians were not in sight. 
They resolved to harness and start for the 
Republican to find a fording place. Mr. M. 
traveled on foot to ascertain something def- 
inite about the ford, as the stream was dan- 
gerous even at low water; that gave him one 
chance out of one hundred for escape. 

They reached the river at a point where 
the logs for the fort had been hauled up 



INDIAN MASSACRE 21 

the bank, when with the rapidity of a meteor 
there sprang from the very sand, as it ap- 
peared, about one hundred Indians, all 
mounted and armed to the teeth, with guns, 
arrows and tomahawks, yelling like demons 
from the Infernal pit. They surrounded the 
doomed party, shooting their bullets and 
arrows, which seemed to fill the very air. 
The party sprang from their wagons, aban- 
doning everything, while the air tairly 
shrieked with the bullets and flying arrows; 
they plunged into the river (with the excep- 
tion of Mr. M.), making a desperate effort 
cross the swollen stream. 

The blood-thirsty savages hotly pursued; 
the hunters saw no chance of escape unless 
they could cross the river and a narrow 
strip of prairie on the opposite bank, and 
then reach the timber beyond. If they could 
accomplish that they had some hopes, 
thinking they could secrete themselves 
among the trees, brush, weeds and grass. 
They made the attempt; all crossed the river. 



2 2 INDIAN MASSACRE. 

reached the open prairie, when the Indians 
overtook them, kilHng the six. Two were 
residents of Michiofan, visitincr relatives in 
Kansas. 

At first Mr. M. succeeded in secreting 
himself in the tall weeds and tangled grass 
in such a manner that about twenty Indians 
who were searching for him passed within 
six feet of his body. He could see their 
vicious, fiery eyes peering over the weeds 
and orrass which concealed him. He could 

o 

see their guns ready to riddle him with bul- 
lets, and the uplifted tomahawk ready to 
take his scalp; their horses almost trod up- 
on his clothincr. Mr. M. knew all that was 

o 

going on upon the opjx)site bank of the 
river, when the savages w^ere killing his 
comrades, by their unearthly yells; their 
tomahawks soon silenced all else, and he 
could not distino^uish a familiar voice. 

After they had completed their bloody 
deed, he heard them sing their savage song 
of rejoicing. Mr. M. succeeded in getting 



INDIAN MASSACRE. 23 

away from his concealment and was followed 
four miles, but the Indians would not aban- 
don their horses and Mr. M. crept slily from 
place to place until they relinquished their 
search entirely; then he succeeded in reach- 
ing Scandia, fifteen miles distant, where he 
procured a posse and started for the scene 
of the massacre. They found them all 
dead — all scalped but one. Two stripped 
of all their clothing, their bodies filled with 
bullets. One arrow was taken from the 
body of Mr. W. and taken to Michigan, as a 
memento of the horrible scene. 

Mr. McChesney's escape seems almost in- 
credible, and next to a miracle; but he is 
an honorable man, highly respected, and has 
lived in Kansas almost a quarter of a cen- 
tury, and his veracity has never been ques- 
tioned; I received this statement from him. 




l^a^sas as J Hear6 it ii^ 1567, 



-♦ ooHc xx 




IFE, I've concluded the prairies to see; 
Our children are young, and our acres 
are few, 
We'll go to the west, where cattle roam 
free, 
And I'll take a homestead, as other 
men do. 



Some of our neighbors are going next fall; — 
There's Baker, and Brown and William- 
son, too; 

They've been out to Kansas, 
And looked the state through. 




Scene in Noithern Kansas in 1873. 



KANSAS AS I HEARD IT IN 1 867. 25 

The prairies are rolling, and covered with 
flowers. 
They say it is lovely, the grass grows so 
high, — 
And better than all, no doctor to pay; 

For there it's so healthy, that men never 
die. 

Uncle Sam, you know, for a very small sum, 

Will give me a farm, that nature made 

clear. 

I'll build me a house, and break up my land. 

And then I'll be worth more'n a dozen 

men here. 

Now, wife, we'll plan, and talk of our trip, 
Of our overland journey, and camping out, 
too. 
We'll build up our fire, by the road-side at 
night, 
And eat on the ground, as other folks do. 

We'll sell what we can, and the rest give 
away, 



26 KANSAS AS I HEARD IT IN 1 867. 

For when we are there, we've nothin^r ta 

fear, 
Our potatoes and corn will grow without 

work. 
And we'll feast on sw^eet buffalo half of 

the year. 

They say those plains have the rarest of 
game, 
There's the buffalo, elk and antelope, too; 
While the grass is filled with chicken and 
quail, 
And there is the turkey that weighs 
twenty-two. 

ril put in my crops, and go hunting, you 
know. 
While you mind the children, and live at 
your ease. 
No smudges to build, the mosquitoes to 
scare ; 
No potatoes to bury, for there they won't 
freeze. 



KANSAS AS I HEARD IT IN 1 867. 27 

Now, wife, we will dream of that land of 
delight, 
How we'll gather the fiowers that cover 
the lea; 
That fertile vale, with fountains so clear, 
That cherished home this fall, we will see. 




}\ai25a5 as It is. 



q^ANSAS Is a noted state, 
'^ With many thriving towns, 

But like all other states, you know. 
She has her ups and downs. 

Kansas yet is young in years. 

But not ashamed of her acres tilled; 

Nor of the stock she sends abroad; 
Nor of her cribs, her corn has filled. 

She's rich in mines of zinc and lead; 

And coal is found of every hue, 
Her gypsum mills grind up her rocks. 

That makes your old land new. 



KANSAS AS IT IS. 29 

Her schools are good as can be found 

In any odier place 
Old teachers have to scratch around 

To keep themselves in pace 
Our boys sixteen are bound to win — 

They'll head them in the race. 

Her soil is sought, I do aver, 

By thirty states, or more, 
And foreigners, from every port. 

Have landed on her shore. 

Of all the states that ere have been. 
Since we from Britain's yoke was free, 

The state of Kansas leads the van, 
As you will plainly see. 




Sl^etcl^. 



THE BURNING AND SACKING OP"' LAWRENCE BY 
QUANTRELL THE GUERRILLA CHIEFTAIN. 



-^xxO^OO- 



[HE annexed view of Lawrence in 1863, 
during the inhuman and barbarous raid 
of the rebels under Quantrell, is taken 
from a drawing and sketch given by one who 
miraculously escaped the scorching flames, 
bloody knife, and fatal ball of the raiders. A 
very brief sketch was collected by historians 
and passed into history, but the true picture 
of the scene has never been depicted, — per- 
haps never will be. 




A^^liEii:^^^:^ 



SKETCH. 3 r 



The massacre of Lawrence appears in the 
minds of the young men of to-day as an idle 
tale, not as a real, cold-blooded murdering, 
done by American sons — men who received 
their education under the stars and stripes, 
which waves one destiny. A community 
would expect nothing else of the untamed, 
blood-thirsty savages, only to attack defense- 
less families and towns, shoot and toma- 
hawk on the spot, or satiate their wild, un~ 
civilized mind by torturing with slow fire, 
and aggravating their prisoners with their 
wild dance and hideous yells; but it seems 
almost incredible that American sons, nur- 
tured under this government, schooled in its 
free institutions of learning, should do such 
diabolical deeds! But, nevertheless, it is 
true, as all of the ablest generals who raised 
their fratricidal hands, and uttered the vilest 
threats against our country, were West 
Point graduates! It nurtured the vipers that 
were to open their mouths and hiss out the 
envenomed poison that was to fill the dense 



32 SKETCH. 



woods, hills, ravines and trenches with the 
noble, loved and patriotic sons of American 
mothers ! 

If the heart sickening sight of the Lawrence 
massacre, together with the cells in Libby, 
Castle Thunder, Salisbury and other pens 
could be hung up in one bold panorama, so 
the young men of to-day could gaze upon it, 
they would cry out in horror, "is it possible 
that American sons endured such imprison- 
ment, such vile torture, such detestable 
hardships?" 

When the arch-angel shall sound his 
trumpet, legions will be the number that will 
come forth, that were made way with in the 
dark days of rebellion, that are to histor)', and 
our country at large, as though they had 
never been. For instance: while travelinof 
through this state, several }'ears ago I was 
pointed out a place in Lima county (by an 
ex-union soldier), where nine men were shot 
in cold blood; their only crime being they 
chose to have the free soil of Kansas un- 



SKETCH. 33 

trampled by oppressors. Scores of such 
black deeds are not recorded which ouorht to 
be, so the young men could read and take 
warning of the past, and choose that which 
will attain to true greatness, having respect 
for their fellow mortals, whether of high or 
low degree; and by knowing the worst pre- 
vent, if possible, future rebellions. 

The history they read is considered the 
depository of events, the faithful evidence of 
truth, the source of prudence and good 
counsel. As it is history that sets all the 
actions, achievements, virtues and faults of 
men in high standing before their eyes, and 
sets a mark of infamy on vices which no 
after age can obliterate, it tends to strength- 
en our abhorence of vice, and creates an 
honorable ambition for the attainments of 
true greatness, and solid glory; therefore, it 
ought to throw off the mask altogether, and 
bring to light the unjust, unlawful, abuse of 
those in the past holding or usurping power 
over their fellow mortals. 



34 SKETCH. 

There had been repeated alarms that the 
rebels were coming, which proved false, con- 
sequently they were thrown off their guard 
and entirely unprepared to defend themselves 
against a body of savage guerrillas, conseq- 
uently the citizens of the doomed city were 
surprised at dawn of day on the 21st of 
August, 1863, the enemy, rushing into the 
city, instantly setting fire to the buildings, 
shooting those they met first and leaving 
them weltering in their blood, while they 
rushed savagely on to their work of destruc- 
tion and death. Women and children were 
terrified; men were helpless because they 
were surprised and overpowered by a band 
whose only terms was cold lead and the 
glittering knife. The roar of the flames, as 
they leaped from the once peaceful dwell- 
ings, the crashing of falling timber; the yell- 
ing and unceasing oaths of the raiders; the 
crack of revolvers, as they laid loved ones 
low in death; the clatter of hoofs, as the 
raiders rode hither and thither on their 



SKETCH. 35 

fiendish work of death and despoliation; the 
awful appearance of destruction and woe, 
ming-led with the dreadful shrieks of women 
and children; the groans of the dying* and 
wounded; exhibited a most horrid and affect- 
ing scene, a scene too great for men to be- 
hold who w^ere bred in the quiet retirements 
of domestic life. The scene presented after 
the raiders left was enough to appal the 
stoutest heart. Buildings burned to the 
ground, the street strewn with wounded and 
dead, scores of children who had been made 
orphans, crying for those w^hose spirits had 
flown to that undiscovered country, from 
whose bourn no traveler returns, those that 
had escaped, left destitute of food and cloth- 
ing, all combined presented a spectcle which 
no tongue can describe, nor pen portray. 




Bari^iipg ai^^ Sacl^ii^g cj- liaWrei^ce. 



ALM and peaceful was the morning, 
When that rebel chieftain wild, 
Said, "I'll burn the town of Lawrence- 
Murder man, woman and child! 

" 'TIs the twenty-first of August; — 
History soon will note the day, 

When the rebels, under Quantrell, 
Captured Lawrence for their prey. 

''My men are thirsting for the blood 
Of loyal sons on Kansas soil! 

Such deeds are cowardly, I know; — 
They make the devil shrink and coil. 



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BURNING AND SACKING OF LAWRENCE. 37 

* 'But blood's our prey, and blood we'll have; 

Our horses' hoofs be red with gore ! 
We've murdered for opinion's sake, 

And now we'll murder as before. 

''We'll plan our raid before we start; 

We'll divide our force in numbers three — 
So we can capture every man; — 

But Ouantrell will your leader be. 

*'We will not spare; we'll burn the town! 

Grim monster death mark out our track. 
We'll show them that no northern sons 

Must tamper with our stock in black. 

''We'll subdue those loyal sons, 

From Kansas unto Maine; 
For, Cole, you heard our leaders say, 

They're bound to have the reign. 

*'Make ready now and we will go; 

We're bound to rule with knife and lead; 
We were not born to till the soil — 

Our aim is to sup at the fountain head." 



38 BURNING AND SACKING OF LAWRENCE. 

Away they start from their lurking place; 

They reached the town ere it it was light. 
They did not meet a well-drilled force, 

Nor troops prepared to give them fight. 

But helpless ones, whose eyes were closed 
In peaceful slumbers of the night, 

Who did not think, ere all arose, 

Their town would be one ghastly sight. 

The word was caught, 'twas, "there they 
come!" 

The bengal beast leaped from his lair. 
Oh! will he kill without remorse 

The infant on its mother's breast, 
The aged one with silvered hair? 

They touched the match to buildings all, 
The flames went bursting here and there; 

And then the shrieks of wounded men 
Pierced wildly through the morning air. 

They with stoutest hearts, shrank to see 
The intense sufferinof and the woe 

o 



BURNING AND SACKING OF LAWRENCE. 39 

That was inflicted on that town 

By Quantrell's band the — rebel foe! 

Men, women, children, all alike, 

Sought refuge from that rebel band. 

Who, with the power of Bonaparte, 
Would lay in ashes all our land. 

The frightful flames were bursting loud, 
And leaping wildly through the air, 

As if to add to the piteous shrieks 
That rose and fell in sore despair. 

The father, with his darling sons. 

The mother, with her child, 
Cried, ''burn my house, but spare my lifeT 

Those shrieks were loud and wild! 

And helpless children did behold 

Those fiends in human form 
Shoot down their fathers In the street. 

With unrelenting scorn' 

The butcherinof done bv Ouantrell's band, 
upon that Autumn day. 



40 BURNING AND SACKING OF LAWRENCE. 

Will, like a dagger, pierce my heart — 
So they who saw it say. 

Killing men had made him brave; — 

Bnt there his ire grew wild 
When Younger said, "you made a vow; — 

You've missed part of your game!" 
And then he gnashed his teeth in rage, 

And said, ''I'll shoot Jim LaneT' 

Ah! sad was the fate of Lawrence that day^ 
As the panting steed bore his rider in gray,. 

As their curses, shrieks and deafenino^ cries 
Were wafted upward to the skies. 

When that awful day had past, 

Smoldering ruins marked the spot 

Where love and friendship reigned supreme. 
Ere Quantrell planned his bloody plot. 

But a mark of infamy is set 

On the men who plotted treason; 

Who thought to rend our land in twain^ 
Without just cause or reason. 



BURNING AND SACKING OF LAWRENCE. 4 1 

And now o'er the graves of New England's 
sons, 
O'er the martyrs who fell that day, 
Year following year, the tear-drops will fall 
On the ground that has mixed with their 
clay. 




^W^ 



So tl^e 
Men^orvi of tl^e Hoip. D. G. Hasi^ell. 



-oCX>^§<X>o- 



[|0-DAY the nation mourns a son, 
^^ , In early life he was cut down. 
%)^ Our friend, our guide, when noon had 
past: — 
No words can speak a woe so vast! 

His years were few, but well-improved; — 

He gained a coveted renown, 
And stamped upon the nation's mind 

That he has gained a heavenly crown. 

Long had sickness on him preyed; 

Anxious friends had watched each mail, 



TO THE MEMORY OF HON. D. C. HASKELL. 43 

While round his bead a loving wife 
In sorrow heard each changing tale. 

His voice — that was true to his country — 
No more will be heard through the halls 

When congress assembles for duty, — 
Where justice should ring o'er its walls. 

This Is a privilege all may speak — 
A sacred grief where all had -part; — 

Where sorrow saddened every brow, 
And flowed through every aching heart. 

Kansas wept; her grief was great. 

She mourned a son, noble, kind, true and 
serene. 
He stayed ! — we watched the uncertain 
doom. 
He fell ! — what mourning clothed the 
scene! 

Pale on his couch the sufferer lay; 
'Twas a weary battle-ground of pain. 



44 TO THE MEMORY OF HON. D. C. HASKELU 

Love watched his pillow: science tried 
Her every art — but all, alas! in vain! 

Ah ! could the grief of all that mourned 
Blend in one voice its solemn cry, 

The wail would reach from shore to shore; 
The echo sound from sky to sky. 

'Twas not our nation to decide 

Whom death shall claim, or skill shall 
save. 
Though Haskell's life by God denied, 

It gave our state a noble grave. 

Farewell ! farewell to that noble son ! 

We wonder why he was cut down; — 
But Enoch walked with God, we're told. 

And at noon was borne into the fold. 



^^:^^ 



PART II, ^ 

PATRIOTIC, 



Sl^etcl^. 



-•OO^O^ 



[HE scene presented on the following page 

[' took place during the war. It was 
during Gen. Thomas' exciting and 
momentous campaign in the mountains of 
Tennessee. 

There were many times when it was feared 
their hour had come; their communications 
were frequently cut off and the whole com- 
mand was in danger of certain destruction. 

They were intrenched upon a spur of the 
hills around Chatanooga, where they had been 
driven by the desperate courage of the Con- 
federates. Their store of provisions had 



48 SKETCH, 

run low, and but one line of communication 
was left open to them — that of the railroad 
in the eastern part of the state. By a flank 
movement the Confederates succeeded in 
putting a line across the last highway; thus 
they were hemmed in; starvation or surrender 
stared them in the face; one alternative or 
the other must be accepted in a few days, 
unless some unexpected change took place. 

Gen. Thomas grew hourly pale and des- 
pairing; he thought the fate perhaps of a 
nation was depending upon his action; but 
he was not the man to yield until every re- 
source had been sounded to the bottom, 
and there was one resource left, and that 
was desperate and almost hopeless. 

Forty miles to the eastward of them lay 
Stockton's command of nearly 30,000 men, 
unconscious of the terrible danger awaiting 
both commands. Stockton's command had 
been directed to occupy a pass in the moun- 
tains on the left, and to hold it until further 
orders. Of course, unaware of the terrible 



SKETCH. 49 

condition of the main army, he would make 
no movement for their rehef. 

Communications were now entirely cut 
off, and it seemed an utter impossibility to 
re-open them through the heavy line of Con- 
federates which lay across the railroad. 
Thomas, however, determined to try it, and 
selected three resolute and tried men from 
that noble army for the dangerous, but hon- 
orable, duty. 

They had reason to believe that the enemy 
had not destroyed the railroad, and if not 
captured at the outset they might succeed 
in taking an engine through to Kanakia 
Station, where Stockton, with his command, 
lay. 

All things ready and orders given at 10:30 
they mounted the engine that was to carry 
them to death, or save an army. Before 
starting, the engineer ordered two tallow 
cans to be put on board as he was going to 
make time and expected the machine would 
heat up finely; the cans were stowed away 



50 SKETCH. 

in the caboose, the engineer opened the 
throttle-valve; amidst an impressive silence 
of the soldiers surrounding the starting point 
they slowly moved away. They passed the 
first battery and were under the guns of two 
more. The works at that point had been 
constructed to command the junction of a 
union line with another running south. 
There was also a station at that point, and 
as they whirled passed they saw an engine 
standing on a side-track with steam up; they 
also caught sight of a number of men run- 
ning toward it and others busy with the car, 
but going as they were at break-neck speed 
it was impossible for them to ascertain the 
cause of the bustle, but they found out 
too soon. They were preparing to give 
them a chase, and capture them if possible ! 




ll'i; 



■,'1 AU' ■ i: ^':'^ 




'Sal^ii^g a Message Sl^^oagl^. 



■o<»0§^00*- 



^ N army waiting anxiously, 

ft With alternate hopes and fears, 

'^^ To see what they can do; — 

With communication all cut off, 
Who'll take a message through? 

Three men with nerve and stalwart frames, 
Who were loyal, brave and true. 

Were chosen from that motley crowd. 
To take a message through. 

The road was guarded, here and there, 
With pickets, scouts, and batteries, too; 



52 TAKING A MESSAGE THROUGH. 

So they must expect naught else but death 
If they try to take a message through! 

The engine was cleaned and prepared for the 
trip, 
Till her sound little works looked bright 
and new; 
And now for the cause she would do her 
best, 
And that was all that an enorine could do. 

They bid farewell, then mounted the cab; — 
No one would choose their work to do, 

But the life of an army was at stake — 
They'll die, or take a message through ! 

And then from the midst of that silent crowd 

They slowly moved away, 
And soon they came to a well-known spot 

Where a rebel battery lay. 

Then missiles of death were hurled at them; 
'Twas a storm of shot and shell and grape ; 



TAKING A, MESSAGE THROUGH. 53 

They cared not how or where they fell, 
So they hit in any shape. 

^'More hre!" was the word from the engineer, 
*'We must try those irons to miss; — 

Por if the rebs should hit their mark. 
We'll fire no more in this! " 

They passed by battery number one; 

Their loss was small, as they could tell. 
To them it was a useless piece of brass, 

And left by the wayside where It fell. 

One battery was passed but there were two 
more. 

The shrieking iron then filled the air! 
""Fill up the furnace, or we are done — 

There's no hope but in despair!" 

Just then a shell — a monster — struck them, 
Crushed through the cab, broke the fire- 
man's arm; 
He groaned "who'll fire the rest of the trip?" 



54 TAKING A MESSAGE THROUGH. 

Your comrade, for that shell has done him 
no harm. 

"They're safe!" they said, with a sigh of re- 
lief; 
They'd passed their last works, their road 
now was clear. 
But the fireman groaned "we ain't through 
with it yet; 
The worst is to come — they are following,. 
I fear!" 

They looked at the man, and thought he was- 
crazed; 
But listning intently found out he was. 
right. 
They had pulled out the engine they passed 
on the track; 
Now they were chasing them — almost in 
sight ! 

The furnace was kept to its highest heat, 
Till the boiler wheazed and groaned for 
breath ; 



TAKING A MESSAGE THROUGH. 55 

The wheels spun around upon the track — 
It seemed like sure and certain death! 

''More fire, more fire!" said the engineer. 

"They're gaining on us fast!" he cried. 
And then he opened the furnace door, 

And cramed it full from side to side. 

*'Is there naught else that we can do? 

Try something quick to stop their speed! 
Let's throw a bar across the track !" 

To which they quickly all agreed. 

Again they came with redoubled speed! 

"Here, throw a coat across the track!" 
The coat was caught — but I shrink to tell, 

'Twas only a moment it kept them back. 

Again they come, fierce and faster than 
before, 

The engine emitting great clouds of smoke. 
Just then they knew not what to do, 

When thus the thoughtful fireman spoke: 



56 TAKING A MESSAGE THROUGH. 

** Where are those cans we put aboard? 
Brave John, that's just the thing; no one 
but you 
Would thought of the hke to grease the 
track, 
That we mig^ht take a messao^e throuofh!" 

o o o 

The cans were brought and the rails were 
oiled; 
Their pursuers rushed onto the glistning 
track, 
But instead of the prize they expected to get 
The wheels rolled round and the car went 
back. 

Their car rolled on till a shot was fired, 
And then they saw our boys In blue, 

They're safe beneath the stars and stripes. 
They'd lived to take the message through! 



liii^coln's Gall \or Sroops. 



M 



HERE are the thousands — seventy-five — 

Whom Abram loudly first did call? 
Say, were they mustered out with you, 
Or were they covered with a pall ? 
Oh! where are they? 



Again he said in sixty-one, 

"Our blood bought land our fathers' won 
As sons we must defend; — 

Some forty thousand stalwart ones 
Must lend a helping hand." 

Oh! where are they? 

Again he said, with a troubled mind, 
"The foe is on our track! 



58 Lincoln's call for troops. 

Three hundred thousand more I'll call^ 
To beat the oppressors back." 
Oh! where are they? 

Again he said, in sixty-two, 

''Our country must not fall! 
It grieves me sore to think I must 

Three hundred thousand call." 
Oh! where are they? 

And yet he saw 'twas their intent 

Our nation to destroy; and as he took his 
pen 
Three hundred thousand more to call 

He said, '*my country, can it be 
That these brave boys must fall ?'* 
Oh! where are they? 

In four months more, with a weary frame, 

And a heart that felt for all, 
He said, ''five hundred thousand more must 
come; 
Will they answer to my call?" 
Oh! where are they? 



LINCOLN S CALL FOR TROOPS. 59 

Again he said, **we will be crushed 

Without two hundred thousand more!" 

And then they ralHed from the hills of Maine^ 
And from the bleeding Kansas shore. 
Oh! where are they? 

Stout hearts recoiled from the bloody strife^ 
That traitorous sons brought on ; 

Five hundred thousand more must come 
Before the victory's won. 

Oh ! where are they ? 

With throbbing heart and anxious brow, 

Again our leader said: 
*'The foe that's drenched our land with bloody 

They cannot hold out long; — 
So come and help the weary ones — 

Three hundred thousand strong!" 
Oh! where are they? 

And so they went — two million men — 
And many thousand more, 



6o 



LINCOLN S CALL FOR TROOPS. 



To show to all the world around 

That poisonous tree with deadly fruity 
Was uprooted on our shore. 
Oh! where are they? 




Die^ at Stoi^e r\iVer. 



J^I^HEN traitors struck this mighty nation 
- Such a blow her temple trembled, 
S Abram called her loyal sons; — 

From the north they soon assembled 
To meet her bold, rebellious ones. 

Among the troops that volunteered 

Was a fair and lovely one, 
A treasure of a northern household — 

A boy sixteen, an only son. 

The word to come was quickly given 
That tore the household wreaths apart; 

Mothers tried to bear the anguish, 
Strove to shield a noble heart. 



62 DIED AT STONE RIVER. 

In that sad and lonely dwelling, 
A mother pressed her darling boy, 

Upon his cheek she placed a kiss 
In his hand she placed a token: 

''Where ere you go you'll think of this; 

'^Go my son, your country calls. 

'Tis not for fame nor shining gold, 
But to shield our blood-bought liberty 

Our fathers won in days of old!" 

The sad good bys were quickly given. 
The train went speeding through the air, 

Some it bore from home forever, 
Some a prison pen to share. 

Loyal hearts will all remember, 
When they nobly took the field, 

'Twas that beautiful September, 

And the war trump's loudly pealed ! 

Oh! how grand they seemed while passing 
To the front, where troops were massing; 



DIED ^T STONE RIVER. 6 



o 



Loyal from disloyal classing. 

Brothers of one mighty nation, 
Accursed slavery rent assunder; — 

For It the Innocent did suffer. 
Where shells did burst and cannons thunder. 

They were passing scenes, enchanting 
Scenes, which some would see no more. 

Then they joined the third division, 
Third brigade and fourteenth corps; — 

And they won some gems worth naming, 
Honors true and nobly gaining 

For themselves, reward maintaining, 
And their nation's flag sustaining. 

Through Kentucky and the wilds of Tenn- 
essee, 

Where with Buell as commander. 
They assumed supremacy. 

At Mill Spring, and Pittsburg Landing, 
And other points they won renown. 



64 DIED AT STONE RIVER. 

Till Stanton said ''you're superceeded» 
You must lay your saber down. !" 

Then with Rosy as commander, 

They, the patriotic host. 
Prepared to meet that rebel leader, 

That was known from coast to coast. 

In the fight, when stout hearts faltered, 
Shrank from the outnumbering host, 

Among the sons that bled for freedom. 
Died ere they would leave their post, 

Was that true and noble one. 

At the first he missed the bullets, 
While at his side his comrades fell; 

But ere the sound of victory echoed 
Through the woods and down the dell, 

A ball had struck him, and he faltered — 
Called a comrade ere he fell: — 

*'Bear a message to my mother — 
Lo! she waits to hear from me — 



DIED AT STONE RIVER. 65 

That I filled the post of duty, 
From the foe did never flee ! 

''Tell her I was in the battle, 

In the thickest of the fight; 
The foe was fighting for secession, — 

We were battling for the right. 

"I am wounded, deeply wounded, 
For my country's sake I've fell; 

This will bring you years of sorrow, 
For it is my last farewell ! 

''I will bear the last great struggle, 
That which mortals fear and dread. 

If you'll always say of treason, 
Crush that fiery serpent's head! 

*'Do not break your heart with weeping; 

I will trust the gracious giver. 
The hand of death is o'er me creeping, — 

I am dying on Stone River!" 



fiattle of "Wilsofp Gree\ aip^ Deatl^ 
of Gei^. liv|oi2. 



^OT WAS on the first of Aueust, 
ffi That well-remembered day, 
^ When Lyon, with his little band, 

From Springfield marched away. 

The ditches were all filled 

With our country's bitter foes, 

On the Banks of Wilson Creek, 
W^here McCulloch did repose. 

He'd scoured the country far and wide, 
Over prairie, grove and glen; 

He'd robbed alike both friend and foe, 
For twenty thousand men. 




Gen. Lyon's Monunnent, Springfield, Mo. 



BATTLE OF WILSON CREEK. 6/ 

On the morning of the ninth 

Lyon's mind with care was pressed; 

He thought to slay secession 
Before it left the nest. 

He studied well his chances, 

Ere the rising of the sun, 
For the rebs did him outnumber 

Full three to every one. 

With the stars and stripes afloating 

Beneath the azure blue, 
They marched in silence to the field, 

The loyal, brave and true. 

No muffled drum was beating, 

The faintest heart to cheer, 
But 'twas their country loudly called them 

To protect the west frontier. 

Lyon took the front. 

While Sigel took the rear; 
The time had come to try the brave, 

The loyal volunteer. 



68 BATTLE OF WILSON CREEK, 

To fight for liberty, 

Our country and its laws, 
Or drink the dregs of treason, 

Regardless of the flaws. 

War's fearful blast they soon must share; 

The line was formed, the w^ord was given^ 
The deadly bullets filled the air, 

From Totten's Battery driven. 

Charge after charge that heroic band 

Drove back the rebel host. 
Like waves from off the solid strand, 

On a stearn and rock-bound coast. 

Where the battle raged the fiercest, 

And the bullets flew like hail, 
Lyon's form was in the thickest, — 

At sight of him they would not fail.. 

"His horse is shot!" cried out the aid; — 
The panting steed lay dying there, 

While ofroans and shrieks from wounded mert 
In wild confusion filled the air. 



BATTLE OF WILSON CREEK. 69 

''Here's another — take this charger. 

He is proud of the battle's fray; 
He will bear his gallant rider 

Through the perils of the day!" 

He grasped the rein nor lost a moment, 
While smoke and bullets filled the air — 

'Twas a time when General Lyon 
Saw no hope, but in despair. 

Then they saw a cruel bullet, 

Coursing through that human tide, 

Till it reached its destination, 
In that gallant leader's side. 

Then another, still more deadly. 
Went to take an active part; — • 

Went to ring another life-drop 
From that true and noble heart. 

Then they saw the fruit of treason, — 
The rebel horde had picked their game, 

Then they sent another bullet, 

Tearing through that mortal frame. 



70 BATTLE OF WILSON CREEK. 

Then cried his men — but all in vain ! — 
"Oh leave the field, you're racked with 
pain! 
Go to the rear, your wounds have dressed, 
You're weak and faint, and must have 
rest." 

They saw the blood drip from his brow, 
They wondered why this war must be; 

When some one said Columbia's sons 
Have tried to crush our liberty. 

Again they cried, *'0h! leave the field!" 
But Lyon thought he could not yield; 

He saw that he was needed there 
To keep his men from deep despair. 

The rebels formed in a solid mass, 
Resolved to die or win that time. 

It seemed as though one puff of war 
Would sweep away the loyal line. 

Lyon saw the fearful moment, 

Called unto the brave and just: — 



BATTLE OF WILSON CREEK. ' 7 1 

*'We must now protect that banner, 
Or they'll trail it in the dust. 

^'They will take that noble ensign, 
That for which our fathers bled ; 

They will rend its stripes assunder, 
O'er its stars they all will tread. 

^*That glorious flag they trailed at Sumpter, 
To plant it here our fathers died, 

Now, as sons, we'll shield that banner 
On the old Missouri side!" 

Another charge, and who will lead, 

Lyon's form is red with gore. 
'''Come on brave men!" he calmly said, 

*'My God and country I adore!" 

Through the smoke they saw brave Lyon, 

At the front he lead the van; 
Hoping by unflinching courage. 

To sweep secession from our land. 



72 DEATH OF GEN. LYON. 

They made the charge — fought hand to hand. 
They strewed the field with rebels slain; 

They won the day, but Lyon fell, 
Bleeding at every vein. 

Again they heard their fiendish yell, — 
Five times they'd shot that loyal son ; 

Their long and vicious deadly hate 

Had stilled the heart of that noble one* 

His blood p6ured out on southern soil, 
Where traitors cried, ''Ah! give us more. 

We want more room for slaves to toil, 
And bind our fetters at every door!" 

They saw that crimson current flowing, 

From that true and noble one. 
Where the hateful form of slavery. 

Cried, "Ah! give, Ah! give me room. 

''Room to smite this land with cursing. 
Room to fetter, chain and slay, 

From the trembling mother s bosom, 
Room to tear her child away. 



DEATH OF GEN. LYON. 75 

Room to trample on the manhood 

Of this nation far and wide ; 
Room to spread o'er every portion 

Slavery's low, debasing tide. 

When that blow it struck the nation, 
Lips compressed that scarce could tell 

Of their dear and brave defender, 
How he fought and how he fell. 

Loved ones heard that solemn message, 

Lo, it struck the vital part; 
'Twas "Lyon is dead, our dear commander^ 

A rebel bullet pierced his heart!" 

Then they bore that form away, 
To that sacred hearth-stone, where 

Ere that cruel war was raging, 
There arose a fervent prayer. 

Loved ones will weep above that grave, 
Weep as though the heart would breaks 

When they know his life was taken, — 
Taken for opinion sake. 




Slje Dvjiipg Soldier. 

ARCHING for Atlanta, 

Sweeping scouts and pickets 
Driving in the foe, 

With the peals of martial music. 
Did Sherman's army go. 

Through forests deep and rough ravines, 

'Twas skirmish day by day, 
To feel the foe and and know the point 

Where the rebel Hood did lay. 

It was a grand and gorgeous sight; — 

They bore our flag on high, 
As o'er the hills and through the vales 

Our boys went sweeping by. 



THE DYING SOLDIER. 75 

They tried to flank them on their march, 

With solid shot and shell, 
When a thousand muskets said ''retreat, 

For I do my mission well." 

The deep voiced thunder pealed afar. 
And strewed the ground with dead. 

Till it was covered with their blood, 
And solid balls of lead. 

The rebels charged again and again, 

The lines swayed to and fro, 
Till flesh and blood could bear no more. 

Nor the sullen craven foe. 

Then on that field of dead and dying, 
Was one so true and young in years; 

His ghastly wound was plainly telling 
'Twould bring a mother's burning tears. 

They saw the golden cord was loosened, 

They knew that he must die; 
They could read that mournful message. 

In that calm and blood-shot eye. 



76 THE DYING SOLDIER. 

They read it in the purple flow, 
That roamed from cheek tp cheek, 

And the quivering of his palhd Hps, 
Though faint he thus did speak: 

Glancing at his mangled limb, 

With a calm and tearful eye 
He said, "we've gained the victory, boys! 

But comrades, I must die!" 

He drew a picture from his breast, 

Then called a friend beside: — 
''This is my mother; tell her all — 

'Twas for the flaof i died !'* 

And then he pressed it to his lips. 

And said, * 'before I go. 
We'll give three cheers for the dear old flag 

That flag will win, I know!" 

Then with a gentle smile, 

His spirit winged its flight; 
No more to hear the bugles call, 

Or share the bloody fight. 



Decoratioi^ T)si\j\. 



e >oO^OCx3» 

/^P^is mete that we should meet this day, 
05 And bring the rarest flowers, 

And strew them on our comrades' 
graves. 
In memory of the hours 
When we were called to cut the sod 
And place our comrades under: — 
They who the hand of treason had 
From this world snatched assunder. 

'Tis mete that we should meet this day, 
To join in songs and homage pay 

To those who then with fear and wonder, 
Lest our nation be rent assunder, 



78 DECORATION DAY. 

Gave up their homes and loved ones dear. 

And suffering bore from year to year, 
Then yielded up their lives. 

'Tis mete that we should set apart 

A day of adoration, 
In honor of our sons that fought 

And fell to save this nation; 
And while our days are lengthened out, 

We will each year spread flowers about 
Our comrade's graves. 

'Tis mete that we should weld anew 

Our sacred honor and our love, 
For they whose voice is hushed in death. 

Whose spirits are in heaven above; 
For the boys who quietly slumber, 

In the ground so cold and damp, 
The boys of our martyred army, 

The boys in the silent camp. 

'Tis mete that we should teach our sons. 
All treason to abhor, 



DECORATION DAY. 79 

By pointing out to them each year 
The misery of that war, 

That calls us here to-day, ^ 
Our rarest flowers to display 

And strew upon their graves, 

'Tis mete that we should teach our sons, 

To choose the right and shun the wrong, 
And honor those who fell; 

Who bore their grief and suffering well 
Our nation to sustain, 

And all its laws maintain. 
And from oppression to refrain 

And live in peace with all. 

And when our race on earth is done, 

And here we meet no more, 
Our children will observe a day. 

Their love and flowers to display. 
And strew them o'er our crumbling clay, 

As we have done. 



Battle of DoKtip roiipt Sii^h fionpbari^' 
npeipt of rort McHeiprv]. 



^jf HE author noticed an inquiry quite re- 
cently, in newspaper columns, asking 
who is the author of the the Star Spang- 
led Banner, and for the benefit of those (if 
this book happens to fall into the hands of 
that class), I will insert the following account 
of the Battle of North Point and the Bom- 
bardment of Fort McHenry, in September 
1 814, which is from M'Sherry's History of 
Maryland: 

Having triumphantly despoiled the capi- 
tol of the Union, Gen. Ross turned his eyes 
upon the flourshing and wealthy city of 
Baltimore. Anticipating his design, the 



BATTLE OF NORTH POINT. 8 1 

.governor had ordered the mlHtia of the 
state to hold themselves in readiness, and 
large bodies were marched to the city for its 
defense, about seven hundred regulars, sev- 
eral volunteer and militia companies from 
Pennsylvania and Virginia, increased their 
strencrth to about fifteen thousand men. 

o 

They were commanded by Gen. Samuel 
Smith, who had distinguished himself in the 
Revolution by his gallant defense of Fort 
Mifflin. One division of the army was con- 
fided to Gen. Winder, the other to Gen. 
Strieker. As soon as it was announced that 
the British were approaching the city, the 
militia irritated by the the disaster of Bald- 
ensburg, and the sacking of Washington, 
flocked in from all quarters in such numbers 
that neither arms, ammunition nor provis- 
ions could be supplied them, and the ser- 
vices of many were necessarily declined. 

As it was expected that the enemy would 
land and attack the town from the east, 
heavy batteries were erected on the high 



82 BATTLE OF NORTH POINT. 

grounds in that direction, and an entrench- 
ment thrown up , in which the main body of 
the miHtia were posted. On the water-side 
the city was defended by Fort Mc Henry, 
garrisoned by a thousand men, under Maj.. 
Armistead. Two small batteries were 
erected on the south side, while the chan- 
nel was obstructed by a number of sunken 
vessels. 

On the nth of September, 1814, the 
British fleet, numbering fifty sail, entered 
the mouth of the Patapsco, and on the 
twelfth a force of five thousand men was 
landed at North Point, fourteen miles from 
Baltimore. Gen. Strieker was ordered for- 
ward with three thousand two hundred men 
to oppose their progress. His force was 
composed of the fifth regiment, under Col. 
Sterrit; the sixth. Col. McDonald; the 
twenty-seventh, Lieut.-Col. Long; the thirty- 
ninth. Col. Fowler; the fifty-first. Col. Amey; 
one hundred and fifty riflemen, under Capt. 
Dyer; one hundred and forty cavalry, under 



BATTLE OF NORTH POINT. 83 

Liet.-Col. Biays; and the union artillery 
with six field pieces. In the regiments of 
this brigade were incorporated Spangler's 
York, Metzgar's Hanover, Dixon's Marietta 
and Quantril's Hagerstown, uniformed vol- 
unteers. He took a position about eight 
miles from the city, his right resting on Bear 
Creek and his left covered by a marsh; the 
fifth and twenty-seventh regiments formed 
the first line; the fifty-first was posted three 
hundred yards in the rear of the fifth, and 
the thirty-ninth in the rear of the twenty- 
seventh; the sixth was held in reserve. The 
artillery, six four-pounders, was planted in 
the center on the main road, and a corps of 
riflemen pushed in advance as skirmishers. 
The rifles soon fell in with the van of the 
enemy, and a sharp skirmish ensued, in 
which the British Commander-in-chief, Gen. 
Ross, was killed. Col. Brook, the second 
in command, still continued to advance, and 
at half-past three, the action commenced 
with the main body by a heavy cannonade. 



84 BATTLE OF NORTH POINT. 

Gen. Strieker ordered his artillery to cease^ 
until the enemy should get within close can- 
nister range, and brought up the thirty- 
ninth on the left of the twenty-seventh,, 
while the first was ordered to form at riofht- 
angles with the line, resting its right near 
the left of the thirty-ninth. The fifty-first 
in attempting to execute this order, fell into 
confusion, which, however, was soon rem- 
edied. The enemy now advanced upon the 
twenty-seventh and thirty-ninth and the 
action became general. The fifty-first hav- 
ing imperfectly recovered from its confusion, 
failed to keep its ground, and having de- 
livered a scattering fire, broke in disorder. 
Its retreat threw the second battalion of the 
thirty-ninth into some confusion; but the 
whole line, undismayed by the desertion of 
the fifty-first, maintained its ground with the 
greatest firmness, pouring in a destructive 
fire upon the advancing columns of the 
enemy. The artillery opened with terrible 
effect upon their left, which was opposed ta 



BATTLE OF NORTH POINT. 85 

the fifth, while that gallant regiment proudly 
sustained the laurels it had won at Baldens- 
burg. This close and hot fire was kept up 
without intermission for nearly an hour, in 
the face of a foe more than treble their num- 
bers; for the American line reduced by the 
desertion of the fifty-first, and unaided by 
the sixth in reserve, numbered only fourteen 
hundred men. Their volleys were deadly, 
for they fired not only by order, but each 
man at his mark, and the front ranks of the 
enemy were frequently observed throwing 
themselves upon the ground to avoid its un- 
erring destruction. Finding that his force un- 
covered on its left flank, was no longer able 
to make head against the superior strength 
of the enemy, and having accomplished the 
main object of his detachment, by the se- 
vere check he had given them, Gen. Strieker 
ordered his line to retire to the position of the 
sixth, his reserve regiment; this was accom- 
plished in good order, but the fatigued con- 
dition of the troops who had been in action, 



86 BATTLE OF NORTH POINT. 

and the exposed position which he occupied, 
determined the General to fall back still 
nearer the city; the enemy, crippled by the 
severe contest, did not attempt pursuit; and 
the brigade, feeling that it had gathered the 
benefits of a victory, assumed a position 
near the lines, panting for another struggle 
with the invaders. 

Although the American loss was heavy, it 
bore no comparison to that of the enemy. 
Adjutant James Lowry Donaldson, a mem- 
ber of the legislature, fell in the hottest of 
the conflict. Lieut. Andre was killed; Capt. 
Quantril of Hagerstown, Capt. Stewart, Maj. 
Moore, Lieut. Reese, Joseph R. Brooks and 
Ensign Kirby were wounded. Maj. Heath 
was wounded, and had two horses killed 
under him. The American loss was 
twenty-four killed, one hundred and thirty 
nine wounded, and fifty prisoners, a total of 
two hundred and thirteen. 

The loss of the enemy was nearly twice as 
great; and among their killed was their 



BATTLE OF NORTH POINT. ^J 

leader, Gen. Ross, who in conjunction with 
the notorious Cockburn, was the destroyer 
of the Capitol, and who had boasted that he 
would take up his winter quarters in Balti- 
more. 

On the morning of the 13th of September, 
the British made their appearance within two 
miles of the intrenchments on the Philadel- 
phia road, as if endeavoring to gain the 
flank of the American position; but baffled 
by the skillful maneuvers of Gen. Smith, 
after throwing forward a reconnoisance and 
threatening the lines in front, they retired 
toward their former position, deterred from 
the attempt by the strength of the works. 
Having thus failed to take the city by land, 
the enemy hoped that an attack by water 
would be more successful, and on the even- 
ing of the 13th, the fleet began to bombard 
the fort, its main defense, the garrison was 
composed of three companies of United 
States' artillery, and three volunteer city 
companies, under Capt. Berry, Lieut. Penn- 



88 BATTLE OF NORTH POINT. 

ington and Capt. Nicholson, besides six 
hundred infantry, in all about one thousand 
men, under Col. Armistead. For a time the 
brave garrison were compelled to receive 
the fire of the fleet in silence, anchored as it 
was, two miles from the fort, and beyond the 
reach of its guns. At length, however, 
some confusion being created in the south- 
west bastion by the bursting of a bomb, sev- 
eral vessels were brought within range to 
follow up the supposed advantage; but the 
batteries immediately opened upon them 
with such effect that they were driven back 
to their former position. At this safe dis- 
tance they poured a continuous storm of 
shells upon the gallant defenders of the fort, 
who held their posts in stern silence, ready 
to repulse any nearer approach. 

During the night, several rocket vessels 
and barges, with fourteen hundred men, sup- 
plied with scaling ladders, passed silently by 
the fort and entered the Patapsco, little 
dreaming of the resistance of the six and ten- 



BATTLE OF NORTH POINT. 89 

gun batteries. The foe already reveled in 
anticipation in the plunder of the captured 
city, when suddenly, as they drew opposite 
the six-gun battery, Lieut. Webster, its com- 
mander, opened upon them with terrible 
effect; the fort and the ten-gun battery also 
poured in their fire, and for two hours a 
furious cannonade was kept up, while the 
heavens were lighted up with the fiery 
courses of the bombs from the fleet and 
barges. The havoc was dreadful, one of 
the barges was sunk, and the cries of the 
wounded and dying could be plainly heard 
upon the shore. The rest, in utmost con- 
fusion, and having suffered a heavy loss^ 
retreated precipitately to the fleet, thus 
bafffed bv land and water. 

Admiral Cockburn and Col. Brooke de- 
termined to abandon the expedition; the 
troops were embarked on the 15th, and on 
the 1 6th, the hostile fleet dropped down the 
Chesapeake, leaving the liberated city filled 
with joy at her triumphant preservation,. 



90 BATTLE OF NORTH POINT. 

mingled with sorrow for the gallant sons 
who had died to defend her. The gallant 
defense of Baltimore saved the other Atlan- 
tic cities from attack, and proved to them 
that when led by brave and skillful officers, 
they need not dread to encounter any equal 
force of their vetran enemy. 

The celebrated poem, "The Star Spangled 
Banner," was written by Francis S. Key, a 
lawyerof Baltimore. At the time of the bom- 
bardment of Fort McHenry, he had been 
sent with a flag of truce to Admiral Cock- 
burn, to effect the release of some captive 
friends, and was himself detained on board 
of a cartel until after the attack. The boat 
was anchored in a position which enabled 
him and his companions to see distinctly the 
flag of Fort McHenry on the deck of the 
vessel, he remained on deck during the night, 
watching every shell from the moment it was 
fired until it fell, listening with breathless 
interest to hear if any explosion followed. 
While the bombardment continued, it was 



BATTLE OF NORTH POINT. 9 1 

sufficient proof that the fort had not sur- 
rendered, but it suddenly ceased, sometime 
before day, and as they had no communica- 
tion with any of the enemy's ships, they did 
not know whether the fort had surrendered, 
or the attack had been abandoned; they 
paced the deck for the remainder of the 
night in painful suspense. As soon as it was 
light enough to discern objects at a distance, 
their glasses were turned to the fort, un- 
certain whether they should see there the 
stars and stripes or the flag of the enemy. 
At length the light came and they saw that 
our flag was still there. 

The "Star Spangled Banner" was com- 
menced on the deck of the vessel in the 
fervor of the moment when the enemy were 
seen retreating to their ships. Some brief 
notes were written on the back of a letter j 
for some lines he was obliged to rely on his 
memory, and the whole was finished In the 
boat on the way to the shore, and written 
out as it now stands, at the hotel, on the 



•92 BATTLE OF NORTH POINT. 

night he reached Baltimore, and immediately 
after he arrived, this outburst of the patriot 
and poet's heart thrilled through the souls of 
great men, they took it up; it swelled from 
millions of voices, and the Star Spangled 
Banner became the proud national anthem 
of the whole union. 



Slje §tar-§pai2gie6 n^qv^er. 



-000^000- 



SAY can you see by the dawn's early light 
What so proudly we hailed at the twi- 
light's last gleaming? 
Whose broad stripes and bright stars through 

the perilous fight, 
O'er the ramparts we watched were so gal- 
lantly streaming! 
And the rocket's red glare, the bombs burst- 
ing in air, 



THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER. 93 

Gave proof through the night that our flag 

was still there; 
O, say, does that star-spangled banner yet 

wave 
O'er the land of the free and the home of 

the brave ? 

On that shore, dimly seen through the mists 
of the deep, 

Where the foe's haughty host in dread sil- 
ence reposes, 

What is that which the breeze, o'er the tow- 
ering steep, 

As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now dis- 
closes, 

Now it catches the gleam of the morning's 
first beam, 

In full glory reflected, now shines on the 
stream ; 

'Tis the star-spangled banner! O, long may 
it wave 

O'er the land of the free and the home of 
the brave! 



94 THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER. 

And where is that band who so vaiintino- 
swore 

That the havoc of war and battle's confusion 

A home and a country should leave us no 
more? 

Their blood has washed out the foul foot- 
steps' pollution. 

No refuge could save the hireling and slave 

From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the 
grave ; 

And the star-spangled banner in triumph 
doth wave 

O'er the land of the free and the home of 
the brave! 

O, thus be it ever when freemen shall stand. 

Between their loved homes, and the war's 
desolation! 

Blest with victory and peace, may the 
heaven-rescued land 

Praise the power that hath made and pre- 
served us a nation! 



THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER. 95 

Then conquer we must when our cause It Is 

just, 
And this be our motto '*In God isourtrust," 
And the star-spangled banner In triumph 

shall wave, 
O'er the land of the free and the home of 

the brave! 




W l^at Oar flag Sav^s. 



-OO^JOO-o- 



|0N T you see me waving here, 

Floating proudly through the air? 
I say to all beneath my fold, 

I'm dearer than rich mines of ofold! 
O'er all I wave! 

I won renown in seventy-nine, 

When all were filled with grief and fear; 
I alwa)s waved along the front, — 

My place was never in the rear. 
I waved to win! 

In more than twenty battles, then, 
I saw ten thousand sons, or more, 



WHAT OUR FLAG SAYS. 97 

Give up their lives to free this soil, 

And drive the Briton's from our shore, 
That I might wave! 

I waved o'er victory and defeat; — 

They bore me safe while in retreat, — 

The ground was dyed with crimson blood — 
To plant me where Burgoyne stood. 
That I might wave! 

And when Cornwallis said that he 

Would make a full surrender, 
They cheered and cheered the dear old flag, 

Their shouts were loud but tender; 
And there I waved! 

A few short years again, and I 
Was called where muskets rattle. 

And there twelve thousand sons, or more, 
Gave up their lives in battle. 
That I might wave! 

Again they said, in forty-five, 
That I must surely go. 



98 WHAT OUR FLAG SAYS. 

And they would plant my flag-staff there. 
Way down in Mexico; 

And there I waved! 

And there I saw three thousand fall, 

By the ruthless hand of war, 
Which the common soldier in all lands 

With weeping does abhor. 
O'er them I waved! 

And next the men that cheered me once,. 

And shouted when I won, 
At Sumpter rent my peaceful folds. 

And tried to shoot me down ! — 
But there I waved I 

They used to take me for a mask, 

So they could wia renown, 
And when the boys in blue approached. 

With grape they shot them down ! 
O'er them I had to wave! 

But I had friends, and they were true— 
They are the ones to trust; 



WHAT OUR FLAG SAYS. 99 

They'll smite the hand that pulls me down, 
And trails me in the dust! 
O'er them I'll wave! 

A million men I've seen cut down, 

And many thousand more, 
Beside the wounded that have died 

On old Columbia's shore, 
That I might wave ! 

Now all you sons give me a cheer, 

And loving daughters, too. 
For Briton's flag has bowed to me. 

And the Palmetto, too. 

O'er them I waved! 

And now three cheers for the soldiers, 

The loyal, brave and true, 
And I'll wave o'er those departed, 

Who fell for the red, white and blue! 
O'er them I'll wave! 



iJecoratioip Dav^. 



• ^O^OOo- 



fTOiis for our honored neroes, 

alii 

-Ir We this day have met; 

^ Although their forms have mouldered^ 

Their deeds we'll ne'er foro^et. 

Chorus — We will meet but we will miss them ; 
In their homes is a vacant chair^ 
And a priceless picture wrapped 
In a coil of brother's hair. 

This day will bring sad memories back 

To many a broken heart; — - 
When the captain called his company out» 

And mother and son did part. 

Chorus — 



DECORATION DAY. lOI 

We meet this day to bind anew, 
Our sacred honor and our love, 

For those who fell upon the field — 
But now are in their home above. 

Chorus — 

To-day our minds will backwark fly, 
To troops arrayed and passing by, 

In uniforms of navy blue, 

With glittering swords all bright and new 

Chorus — 

We saw them fall in prison pens, 
Their looks were ghastly wild; 

But ere they crossed the vale beyond, 
They lisped the name of wife and child. 

Chorus — 

We done what little we could do. 
We heard their mournful sighs. 

And gently folded up their arms. 
When death had closed their eyes. 

Chorus — 



I02 DECORATION DAY. 

Their battles are all over, 

Their toilsome march is done, 

Their painful wounds are healed, — 
With them the victory's won. 

Chorus- 




SIpe Dvjiip^ Soldier. 



■o<DO^§<X>««. 



ITji'E knelt beside his dying child, 

With a calm and anxious eye, 
4^^ And heard him call the names at home, 
Then murmured, "I must die." 

'Twas cruel lead that pierced his form, 

And tore his arm away; 
The same that slew a thousand more 

Upon that summer day. 

The father saw the stretcher there, 

To bear his child away; — 
And then his frame it shook with grief, — 

No mortal could it stay. 



I04 THE DYING SOLDIER. 

He pressed his hand unto his Hps, 

And cried, "Oh! can it be, 
The young, the fair, the innocent, 

Must die for slavery?" 

The groans and shrieks upon this field. 
Under the dome of the bright blue sky, 

The human forms now chilled in death, 
Will make the bravest heave a sieh! 

My country! yes, they've sung of thee! 

But it was mockery, yes, indeed ! 
And now thy people they shall mourn. 

Because thy sons are called to bleed! 

My country! yes, I'm proud of thee! 

But on thy glory was a stain; 
The clanking chain and baying hound. 

Marked out the curse on liberty's plain! 

They've sung aloud of our banner bright, 

As o'er the free it waves; 
But lo ! a stain was on its folds, 

As it floated o'er millions of slaves! 



THE DYING SOLDIER. IO5 

And then as that father bent o'er him, 
His Hfe-blood fast ebbing away, 

In a tent away down in Georgia, 

Where the wounded and suffering lay. 

A smile of remembrance passed o'er him, 
And lit up the dying one's eye, 

''I'm glad, very glad of your presence; — 
But father, 'tis hard thus to die!" 

Those words reached that dear father's heart. 
And all of its fountains were stirred; 

His lips were palsied, no sound could he 
make, — 
In vain did he strive to utter a word! 

**Now, father," said the dying son, 
His voice grew faint and low, — 

"Tell mother that I send a kiss 
To her before I go. !" 

His tongue was loosed, his voice returned, 
He clasped him in his last embrace: 



I06 THE DYING SOLDIER. 

*'! will! I will!" he said, 

And pressed him to his throbbing heart, 
His hero and his dead. 

That marble brow with auburn hair, 
Lay lifeless on that father's breast, 

Like sun-beams on the distant clouds. 
Which line the gorgeous west. 

A letter, a kiss, and a coil of hair, 
That was sent to a nothern home, 

And a mound of earth in Georgia's sand," 
Told what that stain had done. 




Decoratioip Dav] 




E meet this day, but some are gone. 
1 They who were loved as well as we; 
Who left their kindred far behind, 
To shield the Tree of Liberty. 

Chorus — From east to west, from north to 

south. 
By you this land was trod; 
And now we meet and homage pay 
To our comrades under the sod. 

We meet this day with mournful hearts, 
To honor those we cannot see — 

Who said, by all their words and deeds: 
"Give me death or liberty!" 

Chorus — 



I08 DECORATION DAY. 

We meet this day, but not as then, 

When blood Hke rain was running free, 

O'er cloud capped hills and verdant plains, 
To save the Tree of Liberty. 

Chorus — 

We meet, but woe is here and there, 
On many a comrade's brow we see 

The well-known mark, points out the man. 
Whose cry was, ''death or liberty!'* 

Chorus — 

And when we meet from year to year, 
The vacant seats of some we'll see, 

Whose graves are shaded by the boughs 
Of freedom's great and stately tree. 

Chorus — 



-^^-^^^^tT^^ 



Oar n 



"^ATR flag is the pride of the nation, 

'Tis dearer than diamonds or eold: 
To the rich, and the boy in the cabin, 
You are equal in under its fold. 

Chorus — Our glorious flag, our blood- 

boug-ht flacr, 
May it say to white and black: 
*'My golden folds shall protect you 
all- 
Press forward and never turn back !'* 

The boy in the furrow a-plodding. 

His garments are tattered, his feet are 
bare: 



no OUR FLAG. 

He'll outstrip the boy In the mansion, 
And sit in the President's chair. 

Chorus — 

All nations had honored our ensign, 

When it floated o'er bond and o'er free, 

Till God in much mercy, had called one 
To thrust in and cut down that great tree. 

Chorus — 

Then millions on millions of voters, 

Said the blacks should go forth as the 
white, 

Till seven at the great central D. C. 

Said, "your millions of voters ain't right!" 

Chorus — 

Our flag it shall float over justice. 

Our voters shall join heart and hand; — 

Till oppression, that dark visaged monster, 
Like the dew shall be swept from our land. 

Chorus — 



OUR FLAG. I I I 



Our flag is the pride of our seamen, 
When in mart or in main 'tis unfurled, 

Like a cable that cannot be broken. 
Binds commerce all over the world. 

Chorus — 




Decoratioij Dav], 



f ^WAS for our nation, yes indeed, 

That those we mourn were called ta 
bleed; 

'Twas for our nation, that the brave, 
Were called to fill a soldier s grave. 

Chorus — Yes, you said you loved your free- 
dom; 
With your blood your words 
were sealed! 
That our nation then nor never, 
We to traitorous sons would 
:" yield! 



DECORATION DAY. II3 

We see them now, as we saw them then; 

They marched with us, fought side by 
side, 
While we were spared to tell the tale; 

Their blood it flowed a crimson tide. 

Chorus — 

We marched with them o'er mountain tops. 

And hillside slopes so long. 
And heard them sing, while tramping through 

Some patriotic song. 

Chorus — 

And through the din of battle, 

We saw the stretcher there 
To bear away our comrades, 

Whose groanings filled the air. 

Chorus — 

Through tangled swamps, and swollen 
streams, 

Our fallen comrades trod; 
Till by the ruthless hand of war. 

They sleep beneath the sod. 



114 DECORATION DAY. 

And, now, dear comrades, ere we part» 
We'll pledge ourselves, that we 

Will meet each year and homage pay, 
To those who fill our national cemet'ry. 

Chorus — 




I/O More r ei^sioi^s. 



»oo§gooe- 



HO are crying no more pension's? 
,,,, 'Tis not the true and loyal ones; — ■• 
X^ 'Tis not the blood that drenched our 
country — 
Saved us from that awful doom ! 



Who are crying no more pension's? 

'Tis not the sons beneath the clay, 
They who saved our country for us, 

Preserved what we enjoy to-day. 

Who are crying no more pensions? 

'Tis not the mothers through our land, 
Who are mourning for their loved ones, 

Lying in the southern sand. 



Il6 NO MORE PENSIONS. 

Who are crying no more pensions? 

'Tis not the boys who can't be seen, 
Who rotted in some southern prison 

With scurvy and the foul gangreen. 

Who are crying no more pensions? 

'Tis not those whom Winder slew, 
Nor those who fell by a rebel battery, 

Masked to catch the boys in blue. 

What is crying no more pensions? • 
'Taint wooden legs and patent arms; 

Eyes which you can touch and handle, 
But ne'er can see earth's glorious charms. 



Men^orable. 



^fiHE year 1865 was made memorable in 



1 



M: 



the annals of history, as being the one 
in which the so-called confederate lead- 
ers laid down the arms they had taken from 
this nation to wage war against it. From 
the hour that gray headed seer fired the 
first gun in Fort Sumpter in April, '61, our 
country was one continual scene of strife 
and bloody battles. At the north fathers, 
mothers, brothers and sisters wept burn- 
ing tears w^hen they were called to part with 
loved ones, to go they knew not where. 
Perhaps to the wilds of Kentucky, Tenn- 



Il8 WHAT MADE THE YEAR I 865 MEMORABLE. 

essee, or the burning sands of the south, to 
fall upon the battle-field, languish in some 
prison, or fall a prey to disease! The 
thought of all this caused mothers to weep 
as no one else can weep. Upon the battle- 
field was suffering so intense, no mortal 
tongue can ever depict the agonies. Men 
have sought out many inventions, but that 
is somethhig mortal man can never do. 
They can not picture out a battle-field in any- 
way so those who did not participate can 
have even a faint idea of its horrifying looks. 
We will stop for one moment, and consider 
a field where men are lying dead in heaps 
like sheaves upon a harvest field. Upon one 
field ten thousand dead, twenty thousand 
wounded, many of them in contortions, 
groaning and struggling in the agonies of 
death; every foot of ground covered with 
some missile of death and crimsoned with 
the blood of the wounded. They were suf- 
fering untold agonies, dying, that our nation 
might not become a by-word among the 



WHAT MADE THE YEAR 1865 MEMORABLE. I I9 

nations of the earth, as a star that had 
shone with exceeding brightness and then 
disappeared, leaving a spot blacker than 
Egyptian darkness, such were the scenes up- 
on the battle-field; while in homes far away 
the anxious mother was hourly watching the 
latest casualities to learn the whereabouts of 
her loved ones, and with throbbing heart and 
tearful eyes, and sorrow such as none can 
tell, she read the long lists of dead, wounded, 
prisoners and missing, to catch a familiar 
name, only to add to her already appalling 
grief. The year 1865 saw great changes. 
The last battles were fought and a long and 
bloody rebellion crushed. The armies of 
the West joined the armies of the East, and 
in the shadow of the nation's Capitol 
marched down Pennsylvania Avenue and 
saluted the Chief Magistrate of the Republic 
as the representative of the civil power of 
the nation. It was said by some at home 
that the army could never be disbanded 
without general destruction everywhere. 



I20 WHAT MADE THE YEAR 1865 MEMORABLE. 

That the soldiers had become so accustomed 
to pillaging, they would plunder and murder 
regardless of law. But we all know this 
proved false, the men who had by their 
courage, suffering and sacrifices, saved the 
country, at the first moment their services 
were not needed, saluted the old flag, which 
they had followed so long, and to which 
they had given new glory. Dropped mus- 
ket and saber, cartridge-box and knapsack 
and hurried home to father, mother, wife, 
brother and sister. They were returning 
home in squads on different trains to all parts 
of the country; officers were giving touching 
farewells to their commands, rendering 
tributes of praise to the brave defenders of 
our nation, for all the noble deeds they had 
done and the untold sacrifices they had 
made. They expressed the deepest sorrow 
for the bereaved friends of the lamented 
dead, who had fallen on the battle-field, in 
prisons, hospitals, in camp, or on the march, 
by disease far from home, and the consola- 



WHAT MADE THE YEAR 1 865 MEMORABLE. 121 

tion and assistance of near and dear friends. 
The work which they enhsted to perform 
had been well cione. Those returning home 
were the ones whom foul disease had spared 
and the deadly bullets of many battles 
had missed. They went to their homes with 
the proud assurance of having participated 
in many hard fought battles. They went to 
their homes as American citizens, knowing 
what it had cost to maintain our national 
integrity. They asked nothing for them- 
selves, neither bounty, office or immunity. 
They asked only that they might go back to 
their homes, and commence anew the battle 
of life, and endeavor to make good the losses 
incurred by their absence. So they returned, 
but not to find things as they left them. 
They went home to find the farm wasted 
and frequently encumbered by reason of ex- 
penses, that out-ran the soldier's small in- 
come. Business had taken to itself wings; 
a new hand at the bench, at the forge, in the 
shop, behind the counter, in the office, and 



122 WHAT MADE THE YEAR I 865 MEMORABLE. 

in thousands of cases the place that once 
knew them, would know them no more, 
forever! 

The service which united the country and 
made it powerful and prosperous, dimin- 
ished the wealth and added to the poverty 
of those who, under providence, had wrought 
it all. Yet they did not complain, nor do 
they now. The country they saved they 
have not reproached; the union soldier did 
not fight for mere pay, or after reward. His 
reward is not in houses nor lands. It is in 
the priceless treasure of memory. In the 
proud consciousness of duty done even at 
the peril of life. He does not own so much 
which he can specifically call his own, and 
reduce to possession as he might have done 
had he not enlisted and served in the army. 
But his undivided portion of the great whole 
is lareer. He can look abroad over the vast 
domain that his blood and suffering helped 
cement together, and see the treasure wrested 
from the soil he helped to redeem.. He can 



WHAT MADE THE YEAR I 865 MEMORABLE. I 23 

see the wonderful inventions and all of the 
evidences of a prosperous and diligent peo- 
ple. He can lay his hand on his heart and 
trustfully say of all this, *'I am an integral 
part. I am an American citizen. If I had 
not by my blood and service, helped cement 
together the union, instead of the peaceful 
iields in which the husbandman can safely 
labor from the rising of the sun to the going 
down thereof, these would have been di- 
vided and waring states, ruin would have 
reigned supreme, where peace and prosper- 
ity now abound. The American people 
would have learned no art but war!" So long 
as the love of a country shall survive among 
the generations of the American people, or 
liberty make her home under the protection 
of the republic, the example of the soldier's 
patriotic devotion will not die for lack of 
honorable remembrance or worthy imitation. 
Many of the noblest, bravest and best who 
went out did not return. They left them on 
the hillsides, in the valleys and by the 



124 WHAT MADE THE YEAR 1865 MEMORABLE, 

Streams of the south, where no voice of 
mother, sister or wife will ever awaken them, 
where no kind frinds will strew flowers up- 
on their graves, but they will never be for- 
gotten. Their heroic deeds and last resting 
place will always be remembered by their 
comrades, while their looks will remain 
bright in the memory of relatives and friends,, 
though dead they will live in the affections 
of their countrymen, and their country's 
history. The friendship formed in bivouac 
and on the battle-field, will never be forgot- 
ten, whether in the same regiment, brigade 
or division, the friendship of the war was. 
strong. 

While we are enjoying cheerful surround- 
ings, let us not fail to remember those who 
have gone before, who sealed their devotion 
with their blood, and who now sleep in the 
soil they died to make free. The vanished 
and nameless army of the republic, who 
were not merely willing to die but to be for- 
gotten ; that the good they did might live after 



WHAT MADE THE YEAR I 865 MEMORABLE. I 25 

them; what they died to preserve we enjoy 
to-day. The ranks of the soldiers are get- 
ting thinner, but the lessons they teach 
should, and will be, deeply impressed upon 
the mind of the rising generation, in whose 
hearing all will be recounted; the lesson be- 
queathed from father to son v/ill not be lost. 
Its admonitions wall prevent future rebellions 
by keeping alive that spirit of patriotism 
which finds expression in national unity in 
equal and exact justice to all men. Incom- 
plete obedience to the will of the majority, 
and in the equal enforcement of all laws. 

In conclusion, our government should see 
that no one who faithfully served his coun- 
try in the hour of its peril should die in want. 



%^ 



W elconpe of 1S6S. 

^^HERE was shouting in the mansion, 
In the lowly cabin, too, 
When the hosts of dark rebellion 
Said, "we'll fight no more with you- 
We'll surrender!" 

Welcome, welcome, was the greeting! 

From hearts at home it quickly came; 
The words were caught, and all repeating 

''Come, Oh! come! 

Welcome home!" 

You have saved our nation for us, 
By your blood and suffering, too. 



WELCOME OF 1 865. 12/ 

From the men who tried to crush us, 
They who filled our land with woe. 
Welcome home! 

Where are they who mustered with you? 

Fought the bloody battles through! 
They whose deeds will ne'er be spoken, 

They who filled the prisons, too! 
Oh! where are they? 

They were wounded, killed and lost, 
They were starved by cruel hands! 

All the news we bring of some, 

They lie beneath the southern sands — 
Our comrades dear! 

From the wearv march and bivouac, 
From battle-fields so fierce and gory. 

All are in our hearts to-day. 
Sacred ever, more in story. 
Welcome home! 

At Fort Donaldson you waited 
For the fleet upon the river, 



128 WELCOME OF 1 865. 

Then with dead you filled the gulches^ 
Tennesseeans to deliver. 
Welcome home! 

Welcome, welcome! We remember 

Of the noted Nashville route, 
Then with pointed steel you ever 

Made the rebels face about. 
Welcome home! 

Welcome, welcome home! From Franklin, 
By your courage — death defying — 

While your comrades low were lying, 
Back you sent the rebels flying! 
Welcome home! 

Then you saw the rebel host; — 

Officers with faces solemn, 
Infantry in flying column, 

Enough of war to fill a volume. 
Welcome home! 

At Chickamauga, Pittsburg and Antletam, 
Pea- Ridge and South Mountain gorges. 



WELCOME OF 1 865. I 29 

The Wilderness, Fair Oaks 

And Gettysburg — the theme enlarges 
Welcome home! 

Welcome, welcome! How you cheered! 

When you heard that Vicksburg's taken! 
With cannon, roar, and deafening shout, 

The very ground beneath was shaken. 
Welcome home! 

Welcome, welcome home from Corinth, 
Where hand to hand, you fought the foe; 

Stumbling o'er the dead and wounded, 
Until thousands were laid low. 
Welcome home! 

Welcome, welcome! what a darkness 

Hovered o er us one and all, 
When brave Thomas seemed o'erpowered, 

And his strength about to fall! 
W^elcome home! 

When you heard the shout of Logan, 
Calling to avenge the blood 



130 WELCOME OF 1865. 

Of your loved and brave McPherson, 
Who had hke a fortress stood, 
Welcome home! 

Welcome, welcome! then you answered, 

Put this vile rebellion down! 
Dig the poisonous upas up, 

Ere the tree is larger grown! 
Welcome home! 

Welcome, welcome! you the gallant Hood 
surrounded. 
And the prized Atlanta won; 
Quickly through the north it sounded, 
The good work that you had done. 
Welcome home! 

For that battle ask of Sherman, 

What's the glory?. 
He will answer, ''home elysian, 

Robes of ermine you should wear!" 
Welcome home! 

Welcome, welcome from Fort Fisher, 
You their giant ramparts battered, 



WELCOME OF 1 865. I3I 

Till the fort was badly shattered, 
And the flag of treason tattered! 
Welcome home! 

In the face of bristling- cannon, 

Grape and musketry, 
When your bleeding ranks were thinning 

On you rushed to crush the gray. 
Welcome home! 

One by one you took each traverse; 

At Fort Anderson you halted, 
Then over its intrenchments vaulted, 

And won the works you had assaulted. 
Welcome home! 

Then cheer on cheer went up from all, 
In one unbroken, deafening shout. 

When you saw the stars and stripes 
Float proudly from that bold redoubt! 
Welcome home! 

Welcome, welcome! We are thinking, 
Of that long and bloody route. 



132 WELCOME OF 1 865. 

When brave Sheridan just returning — 
Made the rebels face about. 
Welcome home! 

Then you saw the flying columns, 

Of the rebs all clad in gray; 
Then you cheered and cheered for Sheridan, 

Who heard you twenty miles away. 
Welcome home! 

From Kenesaw and Rocky Face, 

Up the valley, down the coast, 
You have conquered, won the glory; — 

You the patriotic host. 

Welcome home! 

Welcome, welcome! Those were battles. 
Which the world is proud to name; 

Freeing all the human chattels, 

Filling traitorous hearts with shame. 
Welcome home! 

Welcome, welcome for those battles — ask 
Ulysses, 



WELCOME OF 1 865. 1 33 

What of honor you may know, 
He will answer, "home elysian, 
More than mortals can bestow!" 
Welcome home! 

Welcome, welcome! We have shrined you 

In the temple of our hearts, 
With a golden cord entwined you, 

That no foe can thrust apart. 
Welcome home! 

Welcome, welcome! God has kept you. 

All those weary days agone; 
Though of comrades he bereft you, 

He but gathered in his own. 
Welcome home! 

'Tis for the sleeping heroes 

In their distant graves. 
We the silent tears are weeping. 

While their blood-bought banner waves. 
Welcome home! 



Tf34 



WELCOME OF 1 865. 



'Twas saved by you in battles gory, 
Now its sacred folds can never 

Traitors dare presume to sever, 
Lo ! it waves now and forever. 
Welcome homel 




Decoratioi2 Dav|. 

LEEP, comrades, sleep! 

We are watching o'er your clay, 
Thinking of the trying scenes 

When from home you marched away 
At your country's call 

Sleep, comrades, sleep. 

Of the days we now are thinking, 
When with us you all unshrinking 
, Thought to weld the chain, unlinking, 
Through our native land. 

Sleep, comrades, sleep! 

'Tis the toilsome march we view, 
When with gun and knapsack, too, 



136 DECORATION DAY. 

Many miles we marched with you, 
Weary and worn. 

Sleep, comrades, sleep! 

'Tis the foe we now behold 
Rushing onward for the fray! 

As they come in days of old. 

Clad in somber robes of gray 

Sleep, comrades, sleep! 

Now we hear the cannon's roar! 
Now we see the deadly charge. 

As we did in days of yore, 

When our land was drenched with gore 

Sleep, comrades, sleep; 

Now we see the panting steed, 
Bear his gallant rider where 

Naught but death could claim a part. 

Where deadly missiles filled the air! 

Sleep, comrades, sleep! 
To save our country dear, 



DECORATION DAY. I 37 

AVe saw your bleeding form, 
Mangled and torn by storms 
Of solid shot and shell! 

Sleep, comrades, sleep! 

When the smoke had passed away, 
And darkness stilled the battle's fray, 

Then we placed your lifeless clay. 
Beneath the valley's sod. 

Sleep, comrades, sleep! 

A few short years this earth we'll trod, 
Then we will enter through. 

At his command, pass under the rod. 
And be w^elcomed there by you 1 





Ohe. 

■ ooggoxv. 

E come, we come, a loyal band, 
j^ As children of this nation, 
We'll join in heart, we'll join in hand. 
To keep the declaration. 

From east to west, from north to south, 

We're filled with exultation ! 
Our honored dead reminds us now, 

To keep the -declaration ! 

The soldiers in the battles, fierce, 

Afighting for this nation, 
Gave up their homes, their lives, their all, 

To save the declaration! 



ODE. 139 

And when we know this day was won 

By blood and tribulation, 
The stars and stripes that urged them on 

Will swell the declaration! 

And when we meet beside their graves, 

For sacred consecration, 
Though they are dead, their deeds will say, 

Just keep the declaration! 

We'll not forget that sacred bell, 

That pealed with exultation, 
To tell the wan and weary ones, 

About the declaration. 

And as the years do swiftly fly, 

And freedom's birthday draweth nigh, 

We'll raise the anthem to the sky. 
And hail the declaration! 

And when that glorious day does dawn 
We'll welcome it at rise of sun, 

With shouts of joy and muffled drum. 
And through the day we'll meet as one. 
And read the declaration! 



Pensions all rsi'ib. 



x^ 



eipsioi^s ai 



N behalf of the ex-union soldiers whose 
! names appear every week in newspaper 
columns, complaining because they cannot 
get their pensions, those who to-day are in- 
firm and tottering upon the verge of the 
grave, without the necessities of life, those 
who contracted diseases while in the army, 
and upon their return home would not ask 
for a pension, and at last are separated from 
officers and comrades, and are unable to 
find any of their company or regiment to aid 
them in obtaining a pension; those whom 
years ago the nation was proud of, their 
deeds of bravery were heralded from the 
hills of Maine to the peaceful waters of the 



PENSIONS ALL PAID. 141 

Pacific, from the British possessions to the 
g-ulf; when they marched to the defense of 
our country they were in the prime of Hfe, 
their step was then firm and elastic, and 
their forms erect, now their step is slow and 
their forms are bowed with disease, hardship, 
care and old age, their eyes that used to 
flash at the sounding of the charge are now 
dim, their raven locks are now streaked 
with gray, and they will soon join their 
comrades who fell upon the bloody fields of 
battle, whose bones lie beneath the soil they 
died to protect; in behalf of those I insert the 
following lines: 



^OLDiERS they have had their pensions, 
^ Drew them twenty years aeo, 
^Drew them when they saved our country 
From a bold and deadly foe. 

Soldiers they have drew their pensions, 
Drew them in the battle's din; — 



142 PENSIONS ALL PAID. 

Drew them when they starved and languished 
In some southern prison pen. 

Soldiers they have had their pensions, 
Drawn when death was raging high; 

Where the dust and smoke of battle, 
Rose and hid the bright blue sky. 

Soldiers they have had their pensions, 
Paid with shot and leaden balls, 

Bacon brown and hard-tack tough, 
When the chilling torrent falls. 

Soldiers they have had their pensions,. 

Money cannot them repay; 
Some have homesteads six by four, — 

Sacred graves in southern clay. 

Soldiers they have had their pensions,, 

Paid in prison, camp and line; 
Paid with hunger woe and death, 

Borne with fortitude divine. 

Soldiers they have had their pensions,. 
Paid with English shot and shell,, 



PENSIONS ALL PAID. 1 4. 

Paid with murder, wounds and groans, 
Where our brave defenders fell. 

Soldiers they should have their pensions, 
From the nation they have saved, 

Por the years they spent in battle. 
For the horrors they have braved. 

Can our blood-bought land forget 

Its defenders, brave and dear, 
Has our sun of justice set? 

Is our night of justice near? 




-if^w^ 



Decoratioip Dav|, 



0^EST, comrades, rest! 



Now we stand beside your graves, 
^jFor your march on earth is o'erf 

No more you'll hear the sentry's call 
Upon this changing shore. 

Chorus — For you we're strew^ing flowers. 
Beautiful flowers of May, 
O'er the graves of our fallen comrades. 
Whose forms have mouldered to 
clay. 

Rest, comrades, rest! 
You were the nation's loyal sons, 
You were the true and brave! 



DECORATION DAY. 1 45 

Nobly you fought beneath our flag, 
Our nation, dear to save! 

Chorus — 

Rest, comrades, rest! 
You fought, and bled, and died; — 

You did not return from the war, 
But our hearts through life will yearn 

For the boys who will come never more. 

Chorus — 

Rest, comrades, rest! 
Some fell by the way while a marching, 

And thousands were shot through the heart 
And thousands from dark rebel prisons 
From comrades were called to depart. 

Chorus — 

Rest, comrades, rest! 
No more you'll hear the cannon's roar, 

Nor the drum's redoubling beat. 
Nor the order given for a deadly charge. 
Nor join in a wild retreat. 

Chorus — 



146 DECORATION DAY. 

Rest, comrades, rest! 
We know that our comrades are happy; 

They were faithful to country and God, 
But their names and their deeds will grow 
brighter. 
Of our comrades under the sod. 

Chorus — 

Rest, comrades, rest! 
They rest, but that curse it is ended, 

And the dark sons of Africa are free; 
They rest, but that glorious emblem 

Proudly floats o'er the land of the free! 

Chorus — 

Rest, com.rades, rest! 
What you died to preserve we enjoy, 

Though no marble may mark out the spot, 
Yet the place where you fell for our 
country. 
By the nation will ne'er be forgot. 

Chorus — 



OI2! t'lje Dea6 Were Sljere 



-a-OO^I^OOO- 



WAY in the far sunny southland, 
Were forms surpassing fair, 

Encased in walls of ponderous size, — 
But Oh! the dead were there! 

Chorus — What bound them in those pens so 

vile, 
The loyal sons of America, — 
They who were true as Washing- 
ton? 
'Twas accursed slavery! 

There were kind and loving fathers, 
A breaking in despair; 



148 oh! the dead were there. 

The tired and noble forms of youth 
Were daily dying there. 

Chorus — 

While all around beneath our flag, 

Was grain and viands rare, 
And within those rugged walls 

The brave were starving there ! 

Chorus — 

All hopes were crushed within their breast; 

'Twas banishment and care, 
To hear the dying beg for bread, 

And know the dead were there ! 

Chorus — 

Outside 'twas mirth and the wine cup; 

Within, a current of despair! 
For the hardened sons of earth 

Cared not for the dead in there. 

Chorus — 



oh! the dead were there. 



149 



But they'll shudder, start and tremble 
They'll wail in deep despair, 

When they hear the words, *'depart! 
For those you slew in there !" 

Chorus- 




Jast SWeiptvi years Ago. 



£(^ 



HAT was that I heard you say? 




Mother, did you call, or no? 



Yes, my son, for I've been thinking 
Of just twenty years ago. 

Chorus — Think of all the sighs and tears, 
Think of all the grief and woe. 
That was in a million homes 
Just twenty years ago. 

That hour shines brighter now, to-night, 
That hour of vital grief and woe, 

Than when I read that solemn message 
Just twenty years ago. 

Chorus — 



JUST TWENTY YEARS AGO. I5I 

Yes, you wrote that Frank had fallen, 
While bravely charging on the foe; 

'Twas here, I read that trying message 
Just twenty years ago. 

Chorus — 

When I recall that day and hour. 

Tears will unbidden flow, 
For one who passed from earth away 

Just twenty years ago. 

Chorus — 

And while my days are lengthened out, 

And years do onward flow. 
Sad memory will recall the scene 

Of twenty years ago. 

Chorus — 

And when I've crossed that valley o'er, 
That's free from earthly grief and woe, 

Then I shall see the one that fell 
Just twenty years ago. 

Chorus — 



PART III. ■ 

TEMPERANCE. 



A Flea to Voters. 



-OOO^OOO- 



:OME all you noble voters, 
I pray you lend an ear; 
Let's have more food and clothing, 
And less of rum and beer. 

The brewers they have heaped their cash; 

The pile looms up each year. 
But the wife and children have been robbed. 

By their sale of rum and beer. 

They say their business is upright! 

But that sounds very queer, 
For count the graves untimely filled 

By their sale of rum and beer. 



156 A PLEA TO VOTERS. 

And must the brewers rule the vote, 
Of our blood-bought country dear; 

While weeping mothers see their sons 
Cast down by rum and beer? 

There's many questions that are great 
But they must take the rear, 

For the vital one, to save our land 
Is to crush old rum and beer. 

The cry goes up on every hand, 
Let the tippler have his dram, 

Let him drink and run his course 
As quickly as he can! 

If he was the one that suffered all. 

And not his children dear, 
The curse would not be half so great. 

That is caused by rum and beer. 

We see a solid wall of shops filled 

With a tempting bait, 
Yet brewer's say 'tis not a crime 

To tempt a man to sin. 



A PLEA TO VOTERS. 1 57 

And yet two hundred drunkards 

Die each day. 
Without a sigh from the men who slew, 

They're quickly tumbled in. 

Men are crying, regulate, regulate the law! 

Why don't you regulate a well-known 
ague chill, 
The only way to deal with both, 

Just use a sure and certain pjll. 

For years they tried to compromise, 

And regulate the law. 
But then as now, there was a curse, 

A great and crushing flaw. 

Till Abram took his pen and said, 

"No more you'll see 
Our glorious flag a-floating o'er, 

The bondman and the free!" 

If there's any truth or justice, 
Hovering o'er this hemisphere, 

Shield the wan and weeping mothers, 
That are crushed by rum and beer. 



158 A PLEA TO VOTERS. 

The brewers chuckle in their sleeves, 
When election day draws near, 

Thinking of the votes they'll win 
That will favor rum and beer. 

And shall we have on our banner, 
Free whisky and free trade — 

And let the weeping mothers mourn 
O'er the now protection raid? 

If the sufferers can't get justice, 
By the men that vote each year^ 

Let the ones that rock the cradle 
Crush out old rum and beer! 




s^ 



^n^peraipce. 



§f PALL has covered the face of our land! 
#jf Intemperance has Hfted its death-deal- 
1 ing hand, 

And the darkness of Hquor is witnessed 

and felt, 
For whisky has deluged our country 
with guilt. 

But a star has risen so dazzling bright, 

It says to our voters, prepare for the fight! 

Stand firm by your colors, your helmet 

must be. 
To say by your votes you'll trample whisky ! 

It has reveled in wealth, been sumptuously 
fed. 



l6o TEMPERANCE. 

It has robbed the poor wife of her clothing 

and bread, 
It has tempted the young and the weak 

passer by, 
Made demons of them in the gutter to He. 

It takes the money and brains of our men; 
The fruits of that monster He in some barred 

pen; 
'Tis foremost in vice and dens of low fame, 
Its face is of brass, and whisky's its name. 

It builds up saloons and the keepers get rich, 

While the men it has robbed are cast in 
some ditch; 

But what do they care? for they want the 
last bill. 

They will rob your dear children their pock- 
ets to fill! 

And there is the druggist so wonderful wise, 
He'll fix up a foam that will dazzle your 
eyes; 



TEMPERANCE. l6l 

But in a dark corner he'll sell you the same, 
Something he's ashamed of, and whisky's its 
name! 

There are some of our doctors — I'll mention 

no name, — 
They in the dark, will sell you the same; 
They'll put in some bark from the wild 

cherry tree, 
And say it was medicine for the whole 

family. 

But the star of bright temperance shall 

whisky outshine, 
As orold from the mint does the dross from 

o 

the mine. 
It has rose like a beacon light, streaming 

afar; 
Oh! welcome! thrice welcome! bright 

temperance star! 

Thy brightness shall guide the inebriate's 
hope, 



1 62 TEMPERANCE. 

And teach him in strength with old whisky 
to cope. 

To thee shall the woe-stricken look and 

rejoice. 
To thee lift in gratitude many a voice. 

Thou hast risen in beauty, Oh! never to 
fade. 

Beneath thee, our voters are proudly dis- 
played. 

With thee as our champion they'll vanquish 
the foe, 

And look o'er a land that is purged from 
its woe. 



-^^^^^^i^^f^^ 




D 



alo6ae, 



-ooO^OO«- 



pooD morning, Charlie!" 

'-^ ''Good morning, Fred. Got a new rig, 

^ haven't you?" 
"Yes; I took this out of old Miller." 
"You don't mean to say you stole that 

from Miller, do you?" 

"O, no! I just took it from him." 

"You are talking Chinese now, Charle. 

You will have to send for an intetperter." 
"Well, Fred, I will be my own Interperter. 

You see I joined the temperance league six 



164 DIALOGUE. 

months ago, and this is the result. If I had 
kept on traveling- the same road I have 
traveled for six years, old Miller would have 
had this carriage, that beautiful bay horse, 
harness and all, cramed down into his poc- 
ket; or had it in that palatial residence he is 
building on Pearl street. I'll just tell you, 
Fred, what's a fact: Old Miller has pocket- 
ed the last cent of my father's hard earnings 
that he ever will!" 

''Charlie, did you hear what a smash up 
they had down to O last week?" 

''No; since Miller and I dissolved, I find 
plenty of employment without going to 
O to get the daily mail." 

"Charlie, I suppose you will listen if I re- 
late the tale?" 

"Certainly, certainly, Fred!" 

"Last Thursday, about a dozen got into a 
fight at Miller's. Some got terribly smashed 
up; there was no respect shown to officers, 
or privates, the marshal getting several 
welts on and about the head. Deacon Jones' 



DIALOGUE. 165 

son, Will, got drunk and spent all his money; 
then Miller turned him out and told him to 
go home. You know It was a terrible cold 
night; he was found about half a mile from 
town in the ditch by the road-side, nearly 
frozen to death. It came very near killing 
his mother. Old Jake Stevens had been 
there four days, drunk all the time; when he 
went home after the battle, his wife told him 
she had not had anything for herself and 
children to eat since the day before, while 
he was down to Old Miller's, spending 
money enough to have kept them all winter; 
told him he had drawn the money for build- 
ing Miser's house, and now it was all gone, 
she wanted to get the children some clothing 
and shoes, so they could go to school; said 
she could never send them to school like 
other children, because all the clothes they 
had she had to wash for, and buy them. Then 
Stevens raved to the highest pitch, grabbed 
a club and knocked the brains out of two, 
and would have killed more, but Daily hap- 



1 66 DIALOGUE. 

pened along, heard the racket, got a rope 
and tied Stevens. He'll stretch hemp, now, 
and everybody will be glad, I guess. I 
should think his wife and children would 
want them to hurry up the execution. He'll 
have just one mourner, and that will be Old 
Miller. He'll shed crocodile tears, I ex- 
pect, thinking about the money he would 
have if Stevens had pulled through a few 
years longer!" 

''Come, Fred, just say that you will never 
touch another drop!" 

"Charlie, when I see what you have saved 
by your reformation, I am tempted to say 
I'll touch not, taste not! But what will my 
old chums say? They will hoot at me, call 
me a baby, stingy, and so on!" 

"What do you care for that? It will only 
be for a short time. Hold up your head and 
tell them you have made up your mind that 
you might as well have a little loose change 
in time of need, as for Miller to have it all. 
I can point you to fifty men that spend near- 



DIALOGUE. 167 

ly every cent they make at Miller's! What 
does he care for them ? Not half as much as 
he does for his doer. All he wants is their 
money, and then he will kick them out and 
laugh in his sleeve because they are such 
fools to rob their families, nearly starve 
their wives and children. There's Bill Ding- 
man's family; I'll bet they haven't had any 
shoes on their feet yet this winter!" 

''Charlie, you have convinced me. I see 
plainly It is one of the most debasing vices 
that mortal man ever indulged in, and from 
now, henceforth and forever, I'll drink no 
more. We'll shake hands on that!" 






Moderate Driipl^iipg. 

OOOggOOo— — — 

s moderate drinking is the great high- 
way, 
By which all drunkard's pass. 

Chorus — Come, and sign the pledge with 

me, 
For whisky now it is too free! 

Will you go, will you go? 
If you'll say it is a sin, 
The train will stop and take you in ; 
Will you go, will you go? 

If you'll shun that dangerous route 
There will be no wrecks about. 

Chorus — 



MODERATE DRINKING. 1 69 

That broad highway is for the stage, 
So come and take the narrow gague! 

Chorus — 

Now mount the train and don't look back, 
And it will never fly the track. 

Chorus — 

'Twill leave the tempter in the rear, 
And shun old rum and lager beer. 

Chorus — • 

Supremely blind must tipplers be, 
Though here and there a track they see. 

Chorus — 

Make up your mind that you will turn, 
Ere death shall pack you in his urn ! 

Chorus — 

Now do cease tampering with the foe. 
Nor in the way of ruin go. 

Chorus — 



I/O MODERATE DRINKING. 

Come, give your pledge and do abstain 
Embrace the cause and safe remain. 

Chorus — 




oooggooo— 

■^^^AKE room for the thousands on thou- 
sands returning 
From the lowly pathway of darkness! 
Our hearts with accents of kindness are 
yearning; — 
Unfurl your proud banner and wel- 
come them in! 

From the Isles of the ocean, the plains and 
the dells, 
Thousands on thousands are watching the 
stream ; 
The fond mother's heart in gratitude swells — 
Oh! say, shall we wake and find this a 
dream ? 



172 TEMPERANCE. 

O'er cities and towns, o'er valleys and 
mountains, 
May the flag of temperance o'er all be 
unfurled! 
It bids you partake of the life-giving foun- 
tain, — 
Those waters are flowing to gladden the 
world! 

Oh! still at our post we stand to deliver, 
Till the light burns again on each deso- 
late hearth. 
And the demon of whisky is vanquished for- 
ever. 
Whose breath like a plague has darkened 
the earth! 



^ 



Sigip tl^e r\eh<^e, 




HERE is the man who would not shrink 
^ From the bondage of strong drink? 

Chorus — Cheerily, readily, come along, 
Sign our pledge and sing our 
song! 

If you'll only make the start, 
You will act the wiser part! 

Chorus — 

Where's the man his bottle tips? — 
He's in danger who but sips! 

Chorus — 



174 SIGN THE PLEDGE. 

Come, then, Charlie, Fred and Lew 
The temperance cause is gaining, too! 

Chorus — 

Say to your friends, wheris ere they be, 
Come and sign the pledge with me. 

Chorus — 

'Tis rum that makes me fierce and wild, 
'Tis rum that robs my wife and child. 

Chorus — 

It robs the pocket, racks the brain, 
From the maddning drink I will refrain! 

Chorus — 

And when you make your New Year's call 
Just say you do not drink at all. 

Chorus — 

Say to the girls, where ere they be, 
''That very drink may ruin me!" 

Chorus — 



PART lY. 

MISCELLANEOUS. 



bl^e Sree oj" Lsibertv^. 



o^^OC— 




^<m^^ meet this day, this sacred hour, 
y. To bind anew our country's power; 
From north to south, from shore to shore, 
To talk of scenes in days of yore. 



Chorus — -Our blood-bought country thee. 
Oh ! may thy soil protected be ! 
And shaded by the stately boughs. 
Of freedom's great and glorious 
tree ! 
Land where our fathers bled! — 
Land of our kindred dead! — 
By them this light was shed — 
The light of liberty! 



178 THE TREE OF LIBERTY. 

We fancy we can see the boat, 

That bore our fathers o'er! 
Our Hberty was cradled there; 

Old ocean wafted it ashore. 

Our fathers bore the cruel laws, 

That British Lords have always made. 

Till liberty was there inscribed, 
And in the silent grave was laid. 

They raised the coffin from the tomb. 
And vowed to plant that precious boon, 

O'er all the land from sea to sea — 
That glorious tree of liberty! 

At Lexington was the first scene. 

Where blood was poured upon the green; 

That blood was pure and it ran free, 
To save the tree of liberty! 

At Bunker Hill again we see, 

A crimson current drench that tree; 

They gained the victory — ah ! how well — 
And marked the spot where Warren fell. 



B23 




THE TREE OF LIBERTY. I 79 

Our fathers bore the deepest woe, 

Through burning sun and drifting snow; 

They fought for seven long years, that we 
Might have this glorious liberty. 

And while the years do roll their roiind, 
Oh, may Columbia's sons be found 

To guard the branches of that tree, 
By shouting death or liberty. 

And may they shield our ensign, too, 
'Twas borne aloft the battles through; 

It floats so proudly to the breeze. 
The champion of all lands and seas! 

From east to west, from north to south, 
As each returning Fourth we see. 

We'll shout the anthem throuofh the land. 
Our fathers died to plant that tree ! 

That glorious tree protected will stand 
Perfuming the earth and the sky; 

The joy of the true, and the pride of our land, 
And shade us the Fourth of July. 



Sl^ev] are r assiipg >\.Wavj, 

^HEY are passing away, those fleeting 

m years, 

J^ Like leaves on the river cast, 

They wait not for man, but onward they 

flow; 
Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, 
months, they go 
Into the wonderful past. 

They are gliding past like a weaver's thread, 
And straight as the lightning's pointed 
gleam, 
And soft as the gentle summer's breeze, 
That lightly sways the forest trees. 

And daintly ripples the glassy stream. 



THEY ARE PASSING AWAY. I 8 I 

They are gliding past, like the thistles down, 
And still as the midnight dream, 

And pure as the lark, when she tunes her 
throat 

To sing in the woodland her sweetest note; 
Those fleeting years so tender they seem. 

Yes, they are passing, one by one, 
Down the steps of time so rare; 
We stop and think of their noiseless tread. 
Of the centuries past, and long since dead. 
That were beautiful and fair. 

Our years are few, though to some are given 
Their three score years and ten; 

But that is a short and toilsome stay, 
For the fallen sons of men. 

So rapid they fly from mortals below, 

As swift as an arrow from the archer's bow; 
Bear each one onward through bliss and 
woe. 

As our years are few and fleeting, too. 
Shall we pass them in idle strife? 



I 82 THEY ARE PASSING AWAY. 

Shall we trample them under our busy feet — 
Those beautiful years, so precious and 
sweet — 
As we travel the pathway of life ? 

And while our years are lengthened out, 
Harsh words should not be heard; 

But our life be a pattern of rare design. 

Until w^e are called this clay to resign, 
We should speak no evil w^ord. 




han^ei^tatioi^. 



fARKJ what mournful sounds we hear, 
From mother, wife and sister dear! 
e(c^The wounds grow worse from year to 
year, 
And can't be healed. 

A wife, she lisped the name of one 

She deeply mourned, and dearly loved; 

Whose footsteps she would hear no more, 
Whose spirit was in heaven above. 

And loving sisters, when they meet. 
And see the vacant chairs of two, 

Whose looks are bright as when they left — 
'Twas brother John and Lew! 



184 LAMENTATION. 

The grass grows green above their graves^ 
Each year its freshnes will unfold — 

And this is why loved ones lament, 
For grief so deep will ne'er grow old. 

The winds will waft their fragrance by, 
But to hearts bereft by a cruel w^ar, 

Sad, sad are the mem'ries they will waft, 
As we think of the fields of human gore* 

Yes, we heard a mother call, 

'Twas in her silent midnight dream, 

For four whose forms had turned to dust. 
Beside the onward rushing stream. 

Some one had died; they wondered why! 

The bell had tolled just forty-three, 
Oh! why should death claim such a one, 

Beloved by all, and young as she! 

But some one heard her call the names 
Of four she mourned and dearly loved; 

Then wonder why that mother fled, 
And soared to rest with them above. 



j^eflectioi^. 




-^ 

E are traveling, we are traveling, 
r, Traveling through this vale of tears, 
? To that undiscovered country, 

Where there is no end of years. 

We are looking, we are looking, 

O'er a land by millions trod; 
Thinking of the generations 

That have mouldered 'neath the sod. 



We are standing, we are standing, 
On a land to mortals given; 

But ere men have learned to live. 
The clay and spirit, they are riven. 



1 86 REFLECTION. 

We are sighing, we are sighing, 
For the loved ones that have fled; 

Those who sojourned in this vineyard, 
But now are numbered with the dead. 

We are thinking, we are thinking, 

Of that boat upon the tide; 
Of the milHons it has landed 

Over on the other side. 

We are watching, we are watching, 
Watching as they pass along, 

O'er this rough and winding way, 
Until they join that shining throng. 

We are drawing, we are drawing. 
Drawing nigh the golden walls. 

Where within the portals wide, 
The everlasting sunshine falls. 



Our Slpoagl^ts. 



^UR days are short, our years are few, 

Our path is steep and rough and wide, 
& But there's a home that's free from toil ; 
It lies across that rolling- tide 

Some are cut down in early morn, 
And borne across those waters deep, 

To join the great eternal throng. 
Where angels do their vigils keep. 

Some fall at noon when life is sweet; 

The message is to all, ''prepare, 
Obey the law that is divine. 

Then you shall gain a home up there." 



1 88 OUR THOUGHTS. 

Through sun and storm some day till eve 
They see the changes mortals brave; — 

The infant in its cradle rests: 

Toil comes at noon; at night, the grave. 

But so it is, thus some one said,- — 
Lo! Jacob cried in days of old, 

*'My years are few, and evil, too, 
But now I'm called Into the fold." 



^^^ 




fian^i^^ o| f^icl^npofp^ Sl^eatre. 



[A melancholy event in the history of Eichmond was 
the burning of the Theatre, on the night of Dec. 26, 1811, 
by which the Governor of the state and. many others per- 
ished in the flames.] 

of/ 
-^^WAS on that well-remembered night, 

When all were heard to say, 

)*'The night is long, the troupe's in town, 

We'll go and see the play." 

And so they gathered from the town — 

Six hundred souls or more — 
To watch the play upon the stage, 

As they had done before. 

Talent and beauty were gathered there, — 
And Virginia's Governor, too, — 



IQO BURNING OF RICHMOND THEATRE. 

Not thinking that death would claim the best 
Ere they saw the actors through. 

The play began; all mindswere fixed 

So intently on the scene, 
That nauo^ht but death could throw a veil 

Their minds and the stage between. 

The scenery caught from a chandelier, 
Then the drapery caught on high, 

And blazed throughout that stricken crowd 
Like lightning in the sky. 

The strong and great trod down the weak — 
Nor knew that they were there; — 

Unmindful of their piercing shrieks 
That filled the red-hot air. 

In vain they plead for help to come; 

Their shrieks grew loud at every breath; 
And then the angry flames replied, 

•*My work is sure and certain death!" 



BURNING OF RICHMOND THEATRE. IQI 

The frightful sound of bursting flames, 
The writhing groans of deep despair; 

They all arose from that solemn spot, 
And floated off on the midnight air. 

When men were leaping to the ground. 
There rose a piercing cry, "where can our 
Governor be?" 

And but the roaring flames replied, 
''I've sealed his destiny!" 

When that reaper had done his work, 
And death had claimed his own, 

Among the names that filled that list. 
Was Virginia's honored son. 



>-.r.^ 



m 



Sl^e Die6 Wit^ t^e 016 Y^ar. 



-o-o^oo- 



jMHE snow was falling thick and fast, 

O'er woodland, town and city, too; — 
The piercing blast went sweeping by 
And filled the streets and alleys through. 
The earth was robed in spotless white; — - 
The merry sleigh-bells seemed to say, 
^'Improve your time, both old and young. 
For lo! the old year dies to-night!" 

The street lamps lit the passers by. 

Their welcome rays shone forth on all — 

The old, the young, the rich, the poor — 
On marble fronts and cottage wall. 

Yes, the dear old year was dying. 
Its latest hours were waning fast; 



SHE DIED WITH THE OLD YEAR. 1 93 

When they heard the chime at midnight 
They'd speak of it as of the past. 

Lo! what was that year unveiHng? 

Was it naught but mirth and gold? 
Happy children's ringing laughter, 

Gayest robes of worth untold! 
Mines of gold and costly mansions, 

Decked with lace and rarest art, 
Where no sighing dared to enter, 

Where festive pleasures filled the heart. 

Ah, no; among that crowd 

That passed the street-lamps' flickering 
light, 
Went a child with a tattered robe. 

And a heart that sickened at the sight. 
Of ail things rare that tempt the eye — 
For he thought of the cold and dismal 
room, 
And the pallet of straw where his mother 
lie. 

He knew she had striven with anguish. 
Her heart was crushed with despair; 



194 SHE DIED WITH THE OLD YEAR. 

Her form, so slender, was yielding 
To its mountain of sorrow and care. 

The biting- storm that chilled his frame, 

The fleecy snow that filled the air, 
They did not check his onward course, 

Nor drive his thoughts from that room so 
bare. 
For well he knew that want was feeding 

Upon her vital part; 
That strengthened hope and every nerve. 

And that lone and anxious heart. 

He'll brave the cold and driving storm, 

And try what love will do 
To win his father from the haunts of vice 

To share their grief and woe. 
Hungry and weary on he strode, 

Unmindful of the street-lamps' light. 
Until he reached that vile abode 

Where virtue sickens at the sight. 

He grasped his father's nervous hand, 
And saw his sunken, blood-shot eye. 



SHE DIED WITH THE OLD YEAR. I 95 

Then begged him come, for mother's sake, 
With bread ere she should die. 

He went with a slow and staggering tread 
By the street-lamps' flickering light; 

As reeling, he opened a well-known door 
And said: ''Will you trust me for bread 
to-night?" 

Again through the dimly lighted streets 
That ^father went trudging home, 

As the night winds howled their dismal 
sounds 
O'er stately trees and towering dome. 

When they reached that dismal room, 

Where no brilliant light was streaming. 
There that famished mother lay: 

She was not dead, nor sweetly dreaming. 
But waiting, waiting, wearily waiting, 

While the moments passed away, 
Shivering by the dying embers. 

As on her couch of straw she lay. 



196 SHE DIED WITH THE OLD YEAR. 

As she gazed on the dying embers, 

She thought of her childhood's happy- 
home; 
Where, beneath the stately trees, 

She loved each day to roam. 
Of the dear old wall by the garden walk 

That with ivy was o'er grown. 
The constant sound of the dear old rill, 

With its pure white crested foam. 

And the odor of the roses, 

And the bed of violets rare. 
That sent their sweetest frag^rance 

Through all the summer air. 
Just twenty years had come and gone 

Since she vowed to love but one; 
And then he was a noble man — 

A generous, kind and loving son 

But woe unto the maddening drmk 

That wildly racks the brain; 
'Twill crush the mother's fondest hope, 

And bind her with a chain! 



SHE DIED WITH THE OLD YEAR I 97 

That father reeled and clasped her hana, 

Her face was deathly pale and fair, 
But on his brow was remorse and shame, 

And in that vague unmieaning stare. 
Something had reached his callous heart, 

And its hardened fountains stirred; 
He tried to speak, but on his tongue 

Faltered and died each word. 

Then burning tears, like drops of rain, 

Rolled down that father's face. 
Where rum and the lowest haunts of vice 

Had scathed and left their trace. 
Her vital part was hunger-bitten; 

That father knew her end was near. 
Just as the midnight chime pealed forth, 

That mother died with the old, old year! 



-^^^^^^^(^^T^^^ ' 



Sl^e §to|ei2 Gl^il^, 



-c-OC>^OOo- 



^h! take me to my home once more, 

To friends and kindred, take me back; 
y^. I long to leave these savage haunts, 
My heart grows faint upon the track. 

You took me from my mother's arms, — 
Those arms would gladly clasp me now; 

I feel the kiss she gave me last, 

The hand that pressed my childish brow. 

Long have I been within your tribe. 

And marched o'er Indian trails so long; 

I hate the bow and scalping-knife, — 
I hate the savage warrior's song! 



THE STOLEN CHILD. 



199 



My soul 'twas formed for nobler deeds; 

O'er hills and plains I cannot roam; 
Oh, grant me but my only wish, 

That Is, to see my native home! 




'Tis there my brothers are as free 
As soars aloft the eagle's wing; 

'Tis there they wait and watch for me,- 
My chair is vacant when they sing. 



200 THE STOLEN CHILD. 

Now say that you will set me free! 

I'd rather die than linger here! 
In dreams I hear my mother's voice; 

In dreams I see the falling tear. 

'Tis done, 'tis past, I'm free once more; 

My native land I'll soon behold. 
That spot is dearer now to me 

Than rarest gems all decked with gold. 



mMs 



W^e^ We Are 016. 



-ooO^OCx*- 



^O^RE we're aware — ah! yes, how soon! — 
W Will life's bright morning change to 
noon; — 

And noon's broad and dazzling light 
Put on its sombre robes of night, 
And like a story often told, 
Will seem our life — when we are old. 

To us, when old, this tempting earth 
Will lose its rarest charms of mirth ; — 
All things will have an under-tone 
Of quiet — not by right their own; 
The summer flowers will still unfold 
Their fragrance sweet — when we are old. 



202 WHEN WE ARE OLD. 

When we are old, we will not care. 
To paint our face and dye our hair; 
Twill be no great desire then, 
In gay and costly robes to shine, 
Earthly fame and glittering gold, 
Will lose their charms — when we are old. 

When we are old, come when that will, 
We'll cling to earth a little still; 
We'll think it hard that we so soon 
Have run the race that others run; 
We'll sigh, and think that death is bold 
To take us off when we are old. 

When we are old, we then shall know 
W^hat 'tis to sojourn here below; 
We'll know w^ho were our friends indeed, 
For, truth, such friends, are friends in need; 
If they were sometimes warm, then cold, 
They'll be the same when we are old. 

When we are old, we all will be 
Like tendrils clinging to a tree, 
Our hands that toil from sun to sun, 



WHEN WE ARE OLD. 203 

Will need a staff to lean upon; 

Our feet, so reckless, quick, and bold, 

Will move so slow when we are old. 

When we are old — those words now seem 
Like the rehearsal of a dream — 
We picture, as in prophetic rhyme. 
That far-off spot on the shore of time — 
That spot so distant, it seems quite bold; 
Even to say when we are old. 

When we are old — perhaps ere then, 
We shall be borne from the haunts of men; 
For lo! our dwelling may be found 
Beneath the cold and silent ground; 
Our name perchance may be enrolled 
Among the dead — ere we are old. 

Ere we are old, — that time Is now, — 
For youth and noon are on our brow. 
Let not the moments idly fall- 
Life has a thousand charms for all. 
And some will always an influence hold 
Within our minds — when we are old, 



204 WHEN WE ARE OLD 

Ere we are old, let each one give 
Their hours in learning how to live, 
Then we shall meet with ready heart, 
At noon, the message come depart; 
Or feel our latest days consoled, 
By God's great love — when we are old. 





Wild Cat Money in the 50s 



Wiia Gat Moipev^ i7 tipe 'SOs. 



fHEY had a peculiar kind of money In the 
'50s — in those good old days ! They 
called it by pet and elegant names, such 
as ''White Dog," ''Blue Pup," and "Wild 
Cat." 

W^hen a man had worked hard for a 
month and received his wages, he didn't 
know how much he was worth. 

He would go home and his wife would 
say, "Supper is ready." "Wait a little," he 
would reply, "until I see how much money 
I have." Then he would begin sorting it 
out in three piles. He remembered the 
"White Dog" had forty-seven cents discount; 
"Blue Pup" thirty-six cents discount; "Wild 



206 WILD CAT MONEY I^L THE '5OS. 

Cat" seventy-three cents discount. His wife 
would call him again to supper, but he was 
not ready. He would commence figuring 
out discounts, while his wife, impatiently 
waiting, would say, **Why don't you come 
to supper!" 

The supper would get cold, and the tired 
and brain-worn father had no appetite to 
eat; but after the discount was counted out, 
and he knew the worst, and had to abide by 
it, with depressed feeling he took his accus- 
tomed place at the table and tried to 
make himself agreeable, knowing his wife 
and children were not to blame for the finan- 
cial trouble that was coursing through his 
brain. 

He ate a light meal, thinking all the while, 
discount, discount, discount. After sup- 
per he had no inclination to read, but re- 
paired to a corner absorbed in deep thought, 
thinking if this state of things continued 
much longer he would as soon see a general 
conflagration sweep our land to destruction. 



WILD CAT MONEY IN THE 50S. 20/ 

With such thoughts coursing through his 
brain he was far from beinof attractive. His 
downcast looks made his children shy; they 
did not care to climb upon his knee as they 
were wont to do, but tried to get out of his 
sight. He retired earlier than usual and 
soon fell into a restless sleep, and his wife 
would hear him muttering, as he rolled un- 
easily from side to side, "Discount," "Dis- 
count," -Blue Pup," "White Dog," "Wild 
Cat," "F'orty-seven Cents," "Thirty-nine 
Cents" and "Seventy-three Cents." "Oh, 
dear Jane, such a government to pay a man 
in rags for hard labor faithfully performed! 
It is too much for flesh and blood to bear!" 
His wife tries to awaken him from his 
troubled sleep, but he only mutters, "dis- 
count," "discount." 

He awakes in the morning with a head- 
ache; his wife doesn't know whether to be 
affectionate or not, but feels deeply the 
trouble that Is weighing her husband down. 
He partakes of his breakfast with as little 



208 WILD CAT MONEY IN THE '5OS. 

relish as he ate his supper, and then goes 
forth to earn some more ''discount." 

This is a faithful picture of many a home 
in "Wild Cat Money Days." How different 
the picture is now, A man gets his money 
and has nothing to do but to turn over the 
corners of the bills to see if there is the 
right amount, roll it up and put it into his 
pocket, knowing he has been paid for hon- 
est labor in honest money — money that has 
no pet names and no discount. 




fiovjS; hoi^'i I\^7 AWav^ fron^ mon^e, 



■«is>00^00<&- 



■riROUGii cities, towns and villages, 
15 No matter where we roam; 
)Through gorgeous frescoed palaces. 
There's not a spot like home. 

We bid farewell to home and friends. 
To sail across the briny foam. 

To view the land by Israel trod, 
But our hearts will yearn for home. 

The youthful lad who spurns control, 
And with strangers loves to roam. 

Will stop and think in his reckless course, 
Of the loving ones at home. 



2IO BOYS, DONT RUN AWAY FROM HOME. 

Now, boys, no matter what's your lot. 

For trials you have some; 
Don't think you'll top the stair of fame. 

By running away from home. 

In choosing a guide, take my advice: — ^ 
Don't counsel with those who roam. 

And cause your mother dear to weep, 
By running away from home. 

She's toiled from morn till dewy eve, 

Her life is naught but care. 
Till on her brow the trace is left, 

And in her silvered hair. 

The rosy tint has left her cheek, 
She's cared for you so long; 

So while you're a boy and needing care. 
Don't run away from home. 

Take my advice: her counsel heed. 
And ever strive to give her rest; 

Then your conscience will not smite, 
When the clay falls on her breast. 



BOYS, DON T RUN AWAY FROM HOME. 211 

You cannot find in a time of need, 

No matter where you roam, 
A friend so true, and a spot so dear, 

^s a mother, and a home. 

So when the tempter lures you on, 
And dazzHng Hghts have shone, 

Just ask your mother if 'tis best 
To run away from home. 




GlpilSljoo^'s Davis, 



[HE dearest scenes that swell the heart, 
Are the happy days of childhood; 
When we wxre free as the timid fawn 
That roams through glen and wild-wood; 
Those days are passed and gone. 

We had no cares to oppress the mind, 
Nor a heart cast down by sorrow. 
Each day flew past like a lovely dream, 
Unmindful of the morrow; — 
Those happy days of childhood. 

O! that word brings scenes so sweet! 
That family board 'where all would meet 



CHILDHOOD S DAYS. 2 I 3 



On memory's tablet each face appears, 
That formed the household wreath for years; 
That wreath is torn apart. 

The sweet, sweet years of a happy child, 
Roaming among the wood-land w^ild; 
Or whiling away the sultry hours 
In cottage, hall, or shady bowers; 
Those hours are past and gone. 

Or listening to the stories told, 
Around the hearth-stone, rude and old; 
When the father's work was done, 
And the merry twilight hour had come; — 
That hour will come no more. 

Or we'd sit on our father's knee. 

And watch his thoughtful brow. 

With our childish hands in his soft, brown 

hair; — 
Those locks are silvery now; — 
Those locks, so fair, are gone. 



214 CHILDHOODS DAYS. 

The damask rose, and wild-briar sweet. 
That with fragrance filled the air, 
And the busy bee culled all day long 
From the apple blossoms rare. 
Oh! those apple trees! 

We see a change, a noted change. 
For other children leave their plays 
And bound away to Grandpa's knee 
To hear rich tales of childhood's days — 
Those days when we were young. 

Our childhood days, so fair and bright, 
They chase away the clouds of night. 
If care and trials be our lot, 
We'll look on them as one bright spot^ 
Where care and sorrow^ cometh not. 

Oh, those dear, those sacred scenes; 
Like a mountain peak they rise; 
We long to view those scenes once more 
That we once viewed with childish eyes; 
Those scenes we'll view no more. 



CHILDHOODS DAYS. 215 

Our cherished school-days — Oh! how sweet 
Those words, they bring the falHng tear. 
As death has claimed some of the best, 
Our school-mates dear for many a year. 
Lo! now they sweetly rest. 

The name of childhood — Oh how sweet! 
It cheers the prisoner in his cell. 
That word, so dear, points out a path 
And binds him with a magic spell — 
Unto the days of childhood. 

All are stronger, nobler, wiser, 
Under life's mature reign. 
But we feel that pleasures sweet 
Were showered around our childish feet — 
And never will return aeain. 

Childhood's days — how quick they vanish; 

And we sigh for them in vain. 

They surround us, we behold them every- 
where, 

As the childish laug^hter rinofs throuo^h the 
balmy air; — 
But they'll never come again. 



vjcloipe 

•OO^O^ 






^ee! the sky is hid from view! 

The blackened clouds are gathering" 
^ now! 

Shut the windows! close the doors! 

The farmer leaves his work and plow E 

It's hurry and bustle, here and there, 

To care for all about; 
For the frightful storm appears to say, 

"My path I have marked outP 

The deep-voiced thunders peal afar, 

As if to rend the sky, 
And add to the gloom of the coming storm^ 

Now watched by every eye. 




Cyclone. 



CYCLONE. 2 1 7 

The cloudy pillars roll on high, 

As if they longed to say, 
^'I'm stronger than the flood and fire! 

No mortals can me stay!" 

With inky blackness and rumbling sound. 
The storm king wends his way, 

Like troops engaged in deadly strife, 
To see who'll win the day. 

It sweeps the ground, then soars on high, 
And bears its reapings through the air; 

While all along the path it chose, 
Ascends the wail of sore despair! 

W^ith furious speed it rolls along; 

Clouds dashing, then clashing. 
Downward, then upward. 

Collecting, then scattering 
Its wrecks through the air. 

The groans of the strong, and shrieks of the 
frantic ! 



2l8 



CYCLONE. 



Blackness, despair, desolation and death. 
Are the scenes that are witnessed 

When earth has been visited by the 
Cyclone's breath. 




A^n^oi^itioip. 
^ 

^N view of all the suffering and war that 
American fathers, mothers, sons and 
t^ daughters have been called upon to en- 
dure, allow me to give you a word of ad- 
vice, knowing that our sons will soon be 
called upon to occupy seats in our executive, 
legislative and judicial departments; know- 
ing the time is fast approaching when they 
will be called upon to make the laws that 
govern this great and powerful nation; we 
ought to teach them to live upright and 
honorable lives; teach them that wisdom is 
better than rubies, and a good name is rather 
to be chosen than great riches. If they are 
fortunate enough to accumulate any wealth. 



2 20 ADMONITION. 

teach them not to become oppressors. If 
they happen to wear the badge of office, to 
not be a pohtical knave. 

A rich man who has been an oppressor — 
his name will fade away before the death- 
sweat comes upon his brow; and when he 
dies, there is a wreath of glory about him. 
He can look around and see that it is a pal- 
ace in which he is breathing his last. He 
has millions which he can call his own. He 
will raise his glassy eye and look out of his 
window once more, and reflect that all 
within and far beyond the range of his vision 
belongs to him. He thinks how his name 
has rung through the land; — yes, through 
the world! Millions who have never seen 
his face, are familiar with his fame. 

He is dying, but it is not a vulgar death. 
There is no proverty there. He is dying, 
but he thinks the pagentry that will attend 
his funeral is itself worth dying for. He is 
dying, but he thinks his name will never 
die; he thinks that will live throuo^h the 



ADMONITION. 221 

vicissitudes of many generations. He thinks 
the worm that will devour his body can not 
mar the glory of that name. He can see it 
emblazoned on every paper throughout the 
world. But the name of an oppressor will 
fade and sink into obscurity. 

Many have been left to struggle with 
poverty, unassisted and unbefrlended, be- 
cause oppressors ruled. Many have been 
deprived of their natural rights, because 
oppressors were exhalted to power. 

An oppressor, with all the means of use- 
fullness at his command, which this world 
can furnish, lives for purposses of mere sel- 
fish gratification; and when he dies is never 
missed — except in the sense you miss an 
oppressive burden. No one mourns his 
death, except his near relatives — and no 
doubt part of those are over-joyed to hear 
that the oppressor is gone. The community 
in which he lived will call it an act of Provi- 
dence in removing such an one, and will be 
ready to place the last sod above his mortal 



222 ADMONITION. 

remains. Nothing exhalts the character more 
than the habitual exercise of a benevolent 
spirit: a man, whom money has placed in a 
condition far above that of any other individ- 
ual in the community in which he has lived, 
moving about among his inferiors with affi- 
bility and kindness, apparently forgetful of 
his wealth and his honors. Ready to speak 
a word of consolation, or make an offering 
of charity, wherever it is needed. Benevo- 
lent institutions reckon on him as a bene- 
factor. Destitute widows are made to re- 
joice amidst their sorrow because of his 
kindness; and many an orphan child Avould, 
without any prompting, speak forth his 
praise. There will be an attraction in his 
look and manner that will make the little 
child eager to climb upon his knee to do 
him honor. You will see him moving about 
with as little parade as one of his tenants. 
When such an one dies the tidings of his 
death will bring mourning to all hearts. 
Every one who has become familiar with his 



ADMONITION. 223 

name will mourn his departure; mourn the 
loss of one who has been so gentle and kind; 
one with such a warm and ofenerous heart 
and dignified manners; one who could ac- 
commodate himself to all the different kinds 
of society. 

To the fathers and mothers who navisfated 
that stormy sea twenty years ago, if you 
^vould avoid another such a tempestuous 
Toyage, teach your children to support the 
constitution and obey the laws of our nation. 
Teach them that they may be inspired with 
the same feelings which inspired Webster 
Avhen he made that memorable speech on 
liberty and disunion. Allow me to quote a 
portion of it for the benefit of those who 
may not be familiar with it: 

"Mr. President: I shall enter on no enco- 
mium upon Massachusetts; she needs none. 
There she is, — behold her and judge for 
yourself. There is her history, — the world 
knows it by heart. The past, at least, is se- 
cure. There is Boston, and Concord, and 



224 ADMONITION. 

Lexington, and Bunker Hill; and there they 
will remain forever. The bones of her sons, 
fallen in the great struggle for independence, 
now lie mingled with the soil of every state 
from New England to Georgia; and there 
they will lie forever. And, sir, where Amer- 
ican liberty raised its first voice, and where 
its youth was nurtured and sustained, there 
it still lives in the strength of its manhood, 
and full of its original spirit! If discord and 
disunion shall wound it; if party strife and 
blind ambition shall hawk at and tear it; 
if folly and madness, if uneasiness, under 
salutary and necessary restraint, shall suc- 
ceed to separate it fromx that union, by which 
alone is existence made sure, it will stand in 
the end by the side of that cradle in which 
its infancy was rocked; it will stretch forth 
its arm with whatever of vigor it may still 
retain over the friends who gathered round 
it, and it will fall at last, if fall it must, 
amidst the proudest monuments of its own 
glory, and on the very spot of its origin. * * 



ADMONITION. 225 

'*I profess, sir, in my career hitherto to 
have kept steadily in view the prosperity and 
honor of the whole country, and the preser- 
vation of our Federal union. It is to that 
union we owe safety at home, and our con- 
sideration and dignity abroad. It is to that 
union that we are chiefly indebted for what- 
ever makes us most proud of our country. 
That union we reached only by the disci- 
pline of our virtues in the severe school of 
adversity. It had its origin in the necessi- 
ties of disordered finance, prostrate com- 
merce, and ruined credit. Under its benign 
influences these great interests immediately 
awoke as from the dead, and sprang forth 
with newness of life. Every year of its du- 
ration has teemed with fresh proofs of its 
utility and its blessings; and although our 
territory has stretched out wider and wider, 
and our population spread further and fur- 
ther, they have not outrun its protection, or 
its benefits. It has been to us all a copious 
fountain of national, social and personal 



226 ADMONITION. 

happiness. I have not allowed myself, sir, 
to look beyond the union to see what might 
lie hidden in the dark recess behind. I have 
not coolly weighed the chances of preserving 
liberty when the bonds that unite us together 
shall be broken asunder. I have not accus- 
tomed myself to hang over the precipice of 
disunion to see whether, with my short sight, 
I can fathom the depth of the abyss below ; nor 
could I regard him as a safe counselor in the 
affairs of this government, whose thoughts 
should be mainly bent on considering, not 
how the Union should be best preserved, 
but how tolerable might be the condition of 
the people when it shall be broken up and 
destroyed. While the Union lasts we have 
high, exciting, gratifying prospects spread 
out before us, and our children. Beyond 
that I seek not to penetrate the veil. God 
grant that, in my day, at least, that cur- 
tain may not rise! God grant that on my 
vision never may be opened what lies be- 
hind! When my eyes shall be turned to 



ADMONITION. 22/ 

behold, for the last time, the sun In heaven, 
may I not see it shining on the broken and 
dishonored frao-ments of a once oflorious 
Union; on States dissevered, discordant, 
belligerent; on a land rent with civil feuds, 
or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood! 
Let their last feeble and lingering glance 
rather behold the oforofeous enslo^n of the re- 
public, now known and honored throughout 
the earth, still full high advanced, its arms 
and trophies, streaming in their original lus- 
tre, not a stripe erased or polluted, nor a 
single star obscured, — bearing for Its motto 
no such miserable Interrogatory as 'What is 
all this worth?' nor those other words of de- 
lusion and folly, 'Liberty first, and union af- 
terward !' but everywhere, spread all over in 
characters of living light, blazing on all its 
ample folds, as they float over the sea and 
over the land, and In every wind under the 
whole heavens, that other sentiment, dear to 
every true American heart, 'Liberty and Un- 
ion, now and forever, one and Inseperable!'" 



2 28 ADMONITION. 

Yes, teach them to love Hberty and de- 
spise oppression and treason, trample that 
combined monster in the dust before it has 
charmed them and entwined them within its 
folds so it can sting the vital part as it once 
stung this nation. 

We hear people talking a great deal of 
late about corruption. What and where is 
corruption? You may be robbed of your 
pocket-book and all of its contents, but 
what is that in comparison to being con- 
fronted by a man, your neighbor, with a. 
loaded revolver which he will thrust into 
your face and blow your brains out because 
you have differed from him politically some 
time previous. That is the kind of corrup- 
tion we saw for years, and certainly no pa- 
triotic son desires to have such corruptiori 
forced upon us again. Ask that long list of 
fathers, mothers, sons and daughters who 
are mourning the loss of loved ones, who 
were torn from their household by a blood- 
thirsty rebellion, — ask them concerning cor- 



ADMONITION. 229 

ruptlon; ask that long list of ex-Union sol- 
diers, who are to-day dying as it were by 
inches from wounds inflicted upon the battle- 
field and from diseases contracted while in 
•camp and prison-pens, — ask them about cor- 
ruption; ask the millions of Africa's sons, 
^ho groaned under the galling chains of 
their oppressors, — ask them concerning cor- 
ruption. Combine the lists and ask them 
all, and they will tell you that all the com- 
bined corruptions of this planet are nothing 
in comparison with the corruption that issues 
from the wound of treason. That is a deadly 
poison. They will tell you that the air which 
surrounds the head of that monster is so 
contaminated with the germs of death that 
it will slay its tens of thousands without the 
right preventative in time. Those who are 
crying corruption, before they cry it any 
more they had better transform their swords 
into plow-shares and their gun-barrels into 
railroad iron, so there will be neither wars 
nor rumors of wars, and neighbor cease to 



230* ADMONITION. 

lift Up his hand against neighbor, and have 
cruelty and persecution stop, and have the 
south, as well as the north, blossom as the 
rose. 

To those who stood in the ranks of 
the Republican party and saw the national 
treasury emptied in a time of peace- — no, I 
won't say peace, for there was no peace — 
when there was shooting, stabbing, hangings 
taring and feathering, and hounding from 
place to place; you who stood in the ranks 
of the Republican party and saw our natioa 
gagged and dragged to the very brink of ruin^ 
you saw that powerful flood ready any mo- 
ment to break through and engulf us all ia 
the black and dismal waters of anarchy,, 
slavery and despair; you saw the Republican 
party, thus bound down, take control of this 
government with one-half of the continent 
banded against it, and an army ready for 
battle; you saw the Republican party snap 
the chain that bound them, arm and equip 
two millions of men to maintain our national 



ADMONITION. 23 1 

integrity; arm and equip brother to fight 
brother, because the house was divided; one 
wanted an aristocracy and crush American 
manufactories and build monopoHes in old 
England; the other party wanted what the 
old flag waved — peace, prosperity, civiliza- 
tion, progress, and all kinds of internal im- 
provements. It assures protection to life, 
property, public credit, and the payment of 
the debt of the government, state, county, or 
municipality. So far as it has control, it fos- 
ters the production of the field and farm, and 
of the manufactories. It encourages the 
general education of the poor as well as the 
rich. It is a party of progress and of liber- 
ality toward its opponents; it encourages 
the poor to strive to better their condition; 
the ignorant to educate their children, to 
enable them to compete successfully with 
their more fortunate associates; and, in fine, 
it secures an entire equality, before the law, 
of every citizen — every one has the oppor- 
tunity to make himself all he is capable of. 



232 ADMONITION. 



The Republican party is a party of principle; 
the same principles prevailing wherever it 
has a foothold. The Republican party has 
done all that has been done for the advance- 
ment of civilization and the up-building of 
American industries. The Republican party 
is breaking the way for future ages. Those 
coming after us will look across the billows 
of that stormy sea that you have navigated 
and will see high up the peak the pennon 
of the Republican party, looking at the 
light-house, which the Republican party has 
been building on the path of time. Poster- 
ity will see eternal sunshine settle on their 
heads. The flag of the Republican party, 
more worthy than any other ever borne in 
human hands, is radiant and resplendant 
with illustrious achievements. You saw the 
Republican party born anew. In the throes 
of a moral and military earthquake. You 
saw it organize the armies, the fleets, and 
finances, which fought successfully the most 
gigantic war in history. You saw it liberate 



ADMONITION. 233 

-aOur millions of slaves. You saw it establish 
an absolute free republic. You saw it re- 
generate the national constitution. You saw 
it build its house upon a rock, and the floods 
came, and the rains descended, and the winds 
Llew and beat upon it, and it fell not. You 
saw the Republican party do all these things. 
You saw it rescue from destruction a nation- 
ality incomparably the greatest the world 
has ever seen, and having done all these 
things you saw that party stand; therefore 
you ought not to be for it a little but a great 
deal. You sat by its cradle, you toiled in 
its ranks at noon, and now by any act of 
yours, no matter whether you have been 
disappointed or not, would you hand this 
Government over into the hands of those 
who tried by every means that men could 
devise to crush that bright and shining star? 
tried to trample out that glorious tree of 
American liberty, whose roots were watered 
by the blood of the most patriotic sons the 
world ever new, in more than twenty battles 



2 34 ADMONITION. 

during the Revolution, and has been nur- 
tured by unflinching sons possessed with 
unalloyed and pure devotion to the Union? 
If you have any love for your country, any 
feelings for your sons or for the generations 
to follow, I ask, will you, by any wrangling, 
disappointment, or any act, follow its hearse? 




'G\]e GraVe of W asl^ii^^toip^ 



■OOO^OOC- 



I A person who accompanied Gen. Taylor on his visit to 
Richmond, gives the following description of the scene as 
the steamboat passed Mount Yernon. Some one re- 
marked, "That for fifty years no boat or ship had passed 
the spot where lie the remains of the illustrious dead, 
without paying the solemn compliment of tolling the bell 
while passing. No such honor was ever before paid to the 
memory of the great dead." " 'Tis the Mecca of the 
States !" solemnly added the President, without for a mo- 
ment moving his eyes from the spot.] 



^N the saffron-tinted morning, 
With Potomac's anthem swell, 
^Where our honored Chief is sleeping, 

Mingles deed the passing bell! 
Slowly glides the gallant vessel 

By Mount Vernon's hallowed shades, 
And that mellowed, mournful cadence 
Echoes through the dewy glades. 



236 THE GRAVE OF WASHINGTON. 

'Tis Columbia's tender tribute, 
Offered to her noblest son! 

'Tis the free heart's fervent homage 
At the Grave of Washington. 

In the slumb'rous hush of noontide, 

With Potomac's anthem swell. 
Where our honored Chief is sleeping, 

Mingles deep the passing bell! 
Never marble mausoleum 

Might such majesty impart; 
Nor the loud acclaim of millions, 

As the homage of the heart. 
'Tis Columbia's tender tribute, 

Offered to her noblest son! 
'Tis the free heart's earnest homage 

At the Grave of Washington. 

In the rosy flush of evening, 
With Potomac's anthem swell, 

Where our honored Chief is sleeping, 
Mingles deep the passing bell! 

Never King, in regal splendor, 
Won a fame so true and pure, 



THE GRAVE OF WASHINGTON. 237 

For his name will be a watchword, 
While his country shall endure. 

'Tis Columbia's tender tribute, 
Offered to her noblest son! 

'Tis the true heart's fervent homage 
At the Grave of Washington. 

In the blue and starry midnight, 

With Potomac's anthem swell, 
Where our honored Chief is sleeping, 

Mingles deep the passing bell! 
Dear the spot to patriot pilgrims — 

What a thrill his name creates! 
'Tis the signet of the Union — 

'Tis the Mecca of the States ! 
Mete such true and tender tribute 

To Columbia's noblest son! 
'Tis the free heart's fervent homage 

At the Grave of Washington. 

FINIS. 




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